


Given a chance, I'd show you my heart

by sweetstrawberryheadache



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Music Industry AU, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, commitment issues, journalist!Louis, mention of past character death, narry friendship, photographer!harry, zouis friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 78,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetstrawberryheadache/pseuds/sweetstrawberryheadache
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is a 28 year old journalist living in London and working for the Hoxton District, a famous music magazine. With a 3000-word article, he can basically make or break someone’s career. His world is turned upside down when Harry Styles, hot stuff photographer, gets transferred in London as the new HD Head of Photography.Or the Music Industry AU no one asked for, with Journalist!Louis and Photographer!Harry. Also featuring Niall as Harry’s sensational best friend and Zayn, Louis’ artsy sidekick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dimpled_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimpled_halo/gifts).



> SO THIS IS ! This monster is my contribution to the One Direction Big Bang. Thank you to the mods for organising this, I had a lot of fun writing this fic :) This is my first fic for this fandom. 
> 
> I have people to thank for this, so here it goes: 
> 
> @dimpled-halo: J, I have absolutely no doubt that I would have never been able to do this without you. Thank you so much for your support, your lovely comments and your faith in me ^^ You are a gem and I'll be eternally grateful for your work on this. This fic is for you <3 
> 
> @Vampy-slayer: Ash, I'm in love with your art in general and the piece you did for this story is absolutely amazing. I almost cried when you sent me the final result. Thank you for choosing my summary all those months ago, I'm so glad we got to do this together :) You're the best <3
> 
> @aslowmotionaccident : I still can't believe you agreed on brit picking this monster on such short notice. You are a life saviour ! Thank you so so so much !   
>  
> 
> Disclaimer : This fic is a complete work of fiction. Do not send it to anyone even remotely related to the boys and/or post it somewhere else. Unless you want me to change my identity and move to Argentina. 
> 
> That being said, I hope you'll enjoy this story :)

Louis is going to die. Probably.

Okay, he’s not going to die, but it sure feels like it. He’s finishing up his article with the worst hangover he’s ever had, so yes, it feels like dying.

Last night was his final night covering music festivals all over Europe, and as a way of celebrating he drank so much he’s not sure his liver is going to let him live this one down. He partied till the wee hour of the day, and ended up following a sexy stranger to his tent, which was a nice conclusion to the evening.

Since he had to pack his stuff and be at the airport for his flight back to London, he hasn't slept at all. He curses himself for even believing for one second that his alcohol tolerance was high enough to not make him sick the next day.

His bum hurts from being seated in an airport seat for so long. He’s been in the waiting room for hours now, and the surrounding noise is only making his headache worse. And because apparently, he’s running out of luck, that’s the moment Laura, one of the sub editors of the magazine he works for calls.

“Good morning, Louis! How are you? Are you busy right now? I was wondering if you finished writing your review for the Dimensions festival? Because if not, I’ll have to stay at the office until you send it to me and I have so much to do today and to be honest I’m exhausted, and I’d really like to spend time with the kids you know, but I won’t be able to do that if you send something for me to go over so I-”

“Laura. LAURA!” Louis cuts her off before the rambling makes him want to end his life. He slowly massages his temples and closes his eyes for a second. “Okay first, breathe love. I’m almost finished, but you don’t have to do it tonight. Won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Really? You’re a peach, Louis, really. My husband is getting tired of me going home past the children’s bedtime so I thought I could surprise him tonight.”

“That’s really nice, L. I’ll send my article tomorrow morning, let it be our secret.”

“Thanks, Louis, I appreciate it. Have a good day!”

“You too, L. Bye!”

Louis focuses back on his laptop and squints his eyes at the bright screen as he takes a deep breath. He needs to finish this before he boards the plane.

 

**Dimensions, or How a Croatian Festival Became a Worldwide Reference**

_By Louis Tomlinson, Wednesday 3 September 2018_

In six years, the Croatian music festival ‘Dimensions’ has become a reference for soulful EDM music lovers. Set in a stone fort in the small city of Pula, with its daytime beach parties and boat raves, the festival lures more people every year. The successful recipe of this five day gathering is simple yet effective: An impressive, diverse line-up, an out-of-this world location, and cheap, sugary cocktails bind it all together. Here is a retrospective of the 2018 edition.

**\- Read more below -**

 

As exhausted as Louis feels after spending the whole summer traveling all around Europe, he is happy. The Dimensions festival is probably his favourite, and he knows his review reflects that. He looks up at his surroundings for the first time in what feels like hours, and he takes a second to appreciate his very last moments abroad.

The Pula airport is buzzing with life, with travellers running around and checking their plane tickets one last time to find the right gate. It’s hard to get lost here, since the airport is ridiculously small but once a year, festival-goers still manage to do it. But not Louis, he knows his way around, he’s been here before.

He’s putting his laptop in his travel bag when his phone starts ringing; of course it’s Zayn.

“Louuuu! How are you ? Are you coming back soon?” His best friend asks excitedly.

“Hey, Zee. I’m actually at the airport, I got a flight leaving in an hour or so. How are you?”

“I’m fine, I just need you in London and not wherever the hell you are! Come by the studio tomorrow, yeah?”

“Will do, love. I-”

Suddenly, a loud voice over the speaker urging the passengers of flight 2812 to board their plane for London catches Louis’ attention. He quickly grabs his bags and secures his phone between his cheek and his shoulder.

“Look, I can’t stay on the phone, I have to board right now, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course! Have a good flight, boo!”

“Thanks, love. See you tomorrow!”

Louis hangs up and walks toward the boarding gate with a big smile on his face. He can’t wait to be home, with a month ahead of himself to do absolutely nothing if he wants to. His sleeping arrangements were not too bad this summer, but he missed his big, comfortable flat in Chelsea.

Zayn often mocks him for living in such a posh neighbourhood but Louis doesn’t care. Chelsea is a historical music lair, and knowing the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and so many more made it their home over the years gives it a special air.

The woman at the desk checks his passport and plane ticket with a bright smile, and Louis returns it easily.

“Vacation over I guess ?” She asks with a thick Croatian accent.

“Yeah.” He sighs happily. “I’m going home.” 

***

Louis wakes up in his bed the next morning, a little disoriented about his surroundings at first. He rolls around lazily in his blue Egyptian cotton sheets, the ones Lottie bought him last year because apparently, these things matter. They’re soft and caress his skin smoothly, and now Louis can’t buy any other kind because his sister ruined random sheets for him.

He contemplates spending his day in bed when his phone chimes with a text from Zayn, who wants to know if Louis prefers to order Chinese or Japanese food for their lunch. Louis shoots a quick answer, asking for Chinese because no, Louis Tomlinson will not partake in the sushi hype and that is non negotiable for him.

He throws on a shirt and heads to his kitchen for a much needed cuppa; his box of tea is full of Yorkshire bags, thanks to his best friend who always goes food shopping for him the day before he comes back from his annual road trip. He makes a mental note to thank Zayn later, and also make fun of him for loving his arse so much.

Comfortably settled in the ugly wooden rocking chair that used to be his grandmother’s, Louis sips his tea while thinking of all the things he is going to do during the coming weeks. Obviously he’s going to spend a lot of time annoying Zayn, whether at his place or at the studio but he knows his best friend will shoo him off his premises at some point. Louis can be very obnoxious when he wants.

He needs to do something about his place, because it currently looks like an Ikea ad. Apart from his leather couch, TV, and coffee table, the living room is pretty much bare. His turntable is standing proudly in the right corner of the room, next to approximately three hundred vinyls religiously organised on the shelves by genre. It actually takes the entire wall, and Louis would probably try to save them all if the flat was to somehow catch fire.

There are no pictures on the walls, nothing lying around. It is surgically clean, and sad. Louis is by no means a clean freak, he just doesn’t spend enough time in his flat to mess it up.

His bedroom is the room that fits him the most, with clothes strewn on the floor and a dozen notepads filled with his messy handwriting. Some of them contain drafts of articles he never got around to writing, others are just thoughts and lyrics he comes up with. At least this room feels lived in.

The thing is, Louis doesn’t care about decorating. His mother was the one who picked out the flat and urged Louis to take it. She chose the pristine, immaculate kitchen with cupboards everywhere, the stainless steel stove and the induction hob he never touched (he’s not even sure they work).

The microwave and the kettle are definitely the only kitchen appliances Louis uses on a daily basis, because he’s more of a takeaway kind of guy rather than a chef, and his mother surely hoped to change that in a way. But changing his interior would somehow alter what she’s done with the place, as ridiculous as it sounds. She wouldn’t want him to live in a place he doesn’t truly envision as his home, so yes, he needs to do something about it.

The highlight of the month, however, will definitely be his sister Lottie’s visit; she is supposed to come back to England mid-September, and she will stay with him for a week. He hasn’t seen her since her cosmetics launch party in New York last spring, and he really misses her. They have always had a close relationship, and her living in the US took its toll on Louis, but she is chasing her dream so he can’t blame her; he’s actually very proud.

The morning rolls around quickly and Louis barely has time to do anything before it’s time to get ready for his lunch with Zayn. He goes for a shower, and takes a couple of minutes to check himself out in the full length bathroom mirror facing the sink. He got a nice tan from his days in July spent in Serbia and Spain, and his stay in Croatia only perfected it.

Despite all the junk food he stuffed his face with during the festivals, his abs are still defined and his bum looks as luscious as ever. Considering the fairly high number of one night stands he had over the summer, it doesn’t come as a surprise.

He does need to get a haircut soon, because his fringe is getting out of control and the headbands had their time of glory. He’s definitely going to miss them, especially the blue one that matches his eyes.

Louis hops into the shower, and as he dutifully scrubs himself, he realises his back hurts after his long flight home, and that his arms are sore, but the hot water pouring down is helping. He's so glad to have the comfort of his own bed back.

Once he’s out of the shower, he spends a second thinking of what he’s going to wear before reminding himself that he is only meeting with Zayn. His best friend is probably going to greet him with ratty, old jeans and a white tee splashed with paint or whatever he uses these days to create. Louis would be surprised to get out of a hug without stains on his own clothes.

He throws on a black Kappa tracksuit, a black cap and a pair of old black vans before he grabs his wallet and keys. He orders a Uber and soon enough, a car slowly drives down his street.

 

Zayn’s [studio](https://www.google.fr/search?q=empire+arches+streatham&safe=active&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjxr4Cfg_vaAhXCRhQKHdJwD4MQ_AUICygC&biw=1285&bih=649#imgrc=UESGsEcoF2SHuM:) is situated in Streatham in South West London. It’s a very artsy neighbourhood that Zayn found out about three years ago and immediately fell in love. There are dozens of railway arch work spaces built in old brown bricks, wood and cold steel, and the owner even set up a darkroom and a laser cutting room down the studio’s alley. The site is, according to Zayn, “made out of any artist’s wet dream” or something.

Louis gets there around noon, and as expected, Zayn is painting on a wide canvas suspended on the far wall of the studio. Tarpaulin covers the floor; strong fumes emanate from the many paintings drying everywhere. A Kehlani song is blasting through Zayn’s bluetooth speakers and as he enters the place, Louis goes for it to turn it down.

He takes a moment to sneakily observe Zayn in concentration. He has his fists on his hips, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and a trail of turquoise paint smudged on his right cheek. He’s frowning at the painting, making an odd face at it as if it personally offends him in some way, but he looks breathtaking, as usual.

Zayn’s eyes must catch Louis’ movements just as Louis goes for the speakers, and he turns his head towards his best friend with a smug smile on his lips.

“Welcome back, Lou”, he says as he goes for a hug. Louis welcomes it and breathes in the characteristic smell of smoke, paint, vanilla and spice. Zayn has been wearing the same fragrance since uni, and it bothers Louis when he smells Fahrenheit on someone else, he can’t help it.

“How are you, Zaynie? Missed me much?” Louis asks.

“Not so much, actually. I got used to the calm.”

That gets him an elbow in the ribs and he disentangles himself from Louis with a chuckle. They get settled on the sofa near the huge windows, and Zayn tells Louis he spent his summer working from his studio, occasionally going out for drinks with colleagues. He rants about his trip with Gigi to Pennsylvania to visit her mother with a spark he only gets when he talks about his supermodel girlfriend.

“So you’re telling me you spent two weeks, in the middle of nowhere, feeding cows and chickens?” Zayn nods and Louis pauses. “Who are you and what have you done with my city boy?”

“Oh, come off it.” Zayn smiles. ”Gigi’s Mum is really nice, I had a good time. Besides, we only stayed for a week. Gigi wanted to go to New York to visit her sister, so I had my fill of city entertainment.”

The delivery boy knocks on the glass doors, surprising them both out of their little bubble, and Louis goes up to retrieve the food and pay him. He places the food containers on the beat-up table by the sofa and they dig into their food in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

They spend hours trading anecdotes and laughing, smoking weed and too many cigarettes, and Zayn almost falls to the floor when Louis tells him about the many times he fell face first in the mud at Glastonbury, and how a middle-aged Hungarian journalist chased after him during the whole week of the Sziget festival. Louis politely declined her advances, multiple times.

“So what are you going to do with all this free time, Lou? Any plans?”

“Not much, honestly. Lottie’s coming to visit, and I need to go to the Music Institute to get my assignment for the year.” Louis scoffs. “With my luck, I’m going to get a class of bratty teenagers.”

“Bugger off, you know you missed them as much as I did. I still need to plan out what I’m going to do with them this year.” He plucks two cigarettes out of his pack, offering one to Louis. “Maybe a musical. What do you say?”

“As long as it’s Grease, I’m on board.” Louis snickers as he lights up his cigarette. “Besides, shouldn’t you focus on your postgraduates instead of your side job?”

“There’s not much I can add, Lou. You know UCL dictates what we put in the programs. S’not going to change now.” Zayn exhales deeply, and a circle of smoke forms above their heads.

UCL is one of the most prestigious colleges in London and Zayn teaches there as an English professor. Louis met him when they were in college themselves, in a first-year student class dedicated to American Literature to 1890. They quickly hit it off, and the year after, they agreed on sharing a flat, swearing never to leave each other’s side. Louis specialised in Journalism, and Zayn took the education road.

What really brought them together back then as they grew closer was music. Louis and Zayn both had secretly hoped to somehow make it in the industry, Zayn as a singer and Louis as a songwriter. A few years back, Zayn had the guts to apply for a teaching position at the London Music Institute, and he convinced Louis to apply as a volunteer speaker. They signed the contracts a year and half ago, Louis giving songwriting lessons and Zayn teaching a singing class.

Louis always has a snarky comment when he arrives at the Music Institute way too early on Saturday mornings, but the truth is, he loves it. Being a music journalist gave him the opportunity to meet people he never thought he would, get free tickets to shows he could have never attended with his starting salary. He loves his job, he really does. But getting to teach music, to sing with his students, and most importantly to write lyrics, is still what makes him feel most alive.

He doesn’t need the extra money, his job pays well enough, and Zayn doesn’t need it either. Back in college, when they were typical students partying too hard and trying to make ends meet, a distant, filthy rich aunt of Zayn died. She had no close family, but she remembered dearly her young nephew, with his big brown eyes and brash attitude. Zayn inherited _a lot_ of money, paid off his student loan, bought a house for his mum, and life got a lot easier for the both of them. Louis knows he’ll never be able to repay Zayn for taking care of the rent so many times, or for the billion trips to the supermarket, but he tries.

Before he goes home, Louis insists on being shown every new piece Zayn has created over the summer, and if his best friend plays coy, he’s actually more than happy to show Louis.

After all these years, Louis is still impressed with how diverse and original Zayn’s pieces turn out to be. Sometimes, it’s very abstract and Louis would lie if he said he understands it all, other times, it’s painfully realistic, leaving Louis speechless in front of Zayn’s skills.

Today, the pieces he discovers are all inspired by Zayn’s trip to New York, black and white collages with a pop of colour here and there, and Louis loves it, he really does.

The last piece though is just… Well, uncanny.

“Okay, so this one-” Zayn says as he takes away the white sheet covering [the canvas](http://www.urbanart.co.uk/wp-content/gallery/print-makers-gallery/eggleton_kerry.jpg), on which he painted two dressed up figures with panda heads holding cocktail glasses “is actually you and me. I know it’s weird, but I had this wicked dream and I don’t know, I just had to.”

“I love it.” Louis guffaws. “You’re right, it’s fucking weird, but you did weirder, I guess.”

“Yeah, I know, man.” Zayn says, eyes crinkling. “I used to paint crazy shit when we were still in college.”

 “You’ve matured, Malik. Now you make _collages_.” Louis says with a terrible French accent.

“You’re a dick.” Zayn says flatly.

He pinches Louis’ side, and Louis squeals in protest as he bats Zayn’s hand way. Zayn rolls his eyes but he’s got a small smile tugged at the corner of his lip. He rounds an arm around Louis’ shoulder, and sighs as he looks at the painting. 

“You really like it though?”

“I really do, love.” Louis says earnestly.

Zayn hums, his eyes still focused on the painting when his phone chimes; he plucks the phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. The screen lights up with a text from Gigi, asking Zayn if she can call him asap, followed by a string of emojis.

“I should get going anyway.” Louis says as he disentangle himself from Zayn. “Say hi for me, would you?”

“Of course.” Zayn says.

Louis picks up his wallet and phone on the small counter table, before giving Zayn a tight hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” Zayn mumbles against Louis’ shoulder.

“Promise.” Louis replies affectionately.

Louis steps out of the studio feeling happy and loved and a bit high, and that’s the best feeling in the world if you ask him.

 

***

Louis decides to make a quick detour to the Sainsbury’s down his street before going home; his cupboards are desperately empty, and besides, he’s twenty-eight now, he can’t live exclusively on takeaway and coco pops anymore.

Though at the sight of his shopping trolley, he knows he’s failing miserably. The trolley is filled with beer, tea, cereal boxes, and everything necessary to make a mean toastie. When he gets to the till, he feels like the cashier is judging him, but he brushes it off as he continues placing items for her to scan.

Louis gets home, quickly stocks his groceries and grabs a cold beer, feeling like he deserves it although the day hasn’t been hard on him at all. He blames it on the cashier for making him feel inadequate in his adulthood.

He trades his tracksuit for something more comfortable, and since he has nothing in particular to do, Louis decides to look at the pictures he took over the summer. He used a couple of them for the articles he wrote, but it’s nice to go over them again. His bed looks inviting, so he gets under the covers, laptop propped up on his thighs and head buried in soft pillows.

Louis is not particularly good at photography, but there are some good shots, and through them, he gets to relive his summer, a smile tugging at his lips. Sometimes he gets hit with the fact that his life in the summer consists of being paid to travel all over the continent and listen to music. Of course sometimes the shows he has to attend are not his cup of tea but still. How could he complain when working means sipping on drinks under the blazing Croatian sun, or chatting with a sexy guitar player, lounging on a chair in the Petrovaradin fortress ? Simple, he cannot.

Later in the evening, Louis is watching the X Factor when his phone chimes with an email notification from his boss.

Connor Atkins is the editor-in-chief of _The Hoxton District_ magazine and he’s the one who hired Louis five years ago. He’s a bulky man with golden hair, rich brown eyes and a contagious laugh. He took a shine to Louis almost immediately, and Louis thinks Connor sees a bit of himself in him. He’s pretty much the best boss Louis has ever had, and he considers Connor a friend. However, he knows that Connor is not to be messed with when it comes to anything involving the publication he manages; he has strong work ethics and Louis admires that, cherishes it even.

Connor expects Louis to come to work the next week so they can debrief together how much their faithful readers appreciated his reports. It’s the only part Louis despises, but he knows he can’t cut it. The printed press is going through a financial crisis that won’t quit, and stats, money, and audience ratings need to be closely overlooked.

Louis still doesn’t like it.

The magazine is doing quite good compared to the competition and Connor knows Louis is a contributing factor of this success. _The Hoxton District_ is a worldwide reference, both a famous magazine and a website that generates over twenty thousand visits a month. Their headquarters are in London, where the magazine gets printed, and the company has a branch in Los Angeles, and another in Sao Paulo.

Whenever an upcoming artist’s team needs coverage and publicity, they turn to HD first. More specifically, they call Louis and try to sell whoever they’re managing these days. Those deemed worthy get to be interviewed, but it doesn’t mean the final draft of his article is full of praise. Louis hasn’t become a reference in this industry by being complacent and writing flat reviews. It’s his sharp, unapologetic music critiques that have earned him his reputation. It’s nothing but his perfectionist mind and his ambition that got him to where he is today.

Louis replies to confirm the meeting with Connor and tosses his phone away, eager to go back to his show. For now, he just wants to enjoy a bit of quiet before going back to work.

***

Five days later, Louis arrives in Barbican where the magazine’s headquarters are situated. As he makes his way up the imposing building, he prepares for the rumble of the editorial office on a Friday afternoon. He loves the rush, the impending weight of a deadline on everyone’s shoulders. The atmosphere is heavy in the office, with journalists running around, shouting task after task to poor interns eager to do well, and obnoxiously tapping on their keyboards. 

He greets people on his way to Connor’s office, and stops by the interns’ office to greet Jules. Louis can’t lie, Jules is definitely his favourite intern. She’s witty and smart, and she is a very talented photographer. Whenever Louis has to cover a show and he needs pictures, she’s the one to accompany him. When he gets there, he finds that the office is empty, though.

Confused, Louis keeps walking down the corridor until he reaches Connor’s office. Through the glass wall, Louis can see Connor talking with one of the graphic designers, surely to approve this month’s final layout. It has to go to print by midnight and Louis knows that Connor is putting a lot of pressure on his staff.

Louis can tell Connor is going to be in there for a while, so he heads to the staff kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He rummages through the cupboards to find his favourite mug (the one with the loony giraffe making a knot with her neck) but he comes up empty-handed. 

Strange. Nobody ever uses it. He grabs a random mug and makes a note to himself to find out who the thief is later.

He’s checking the labels on tea sachets when Molly, one of the journalists working for the cinema column, barges into the kitchen. Her curly brown mane is a mess and her big, blue eyes are shining with excitement.

“Hey Louis!” Molly greets. “How were the festivals? Did you take acid this year or did you chicken out again?”

“Hello to you too, darling.” He plants a wet kiss on her cheek, and Molly makes a face, faking disgust. “And to answer your question, no I haven’t taken any drugs, I was working.”

“Yeah, right.”

Louis chuckles and keeps looking for his Yorkshire tea, but there’s not one sachet left.

“Hey, Molly, you wouldn’t happen to have tea for me? Mine’s gone.”

“Sorry love, but I came here because I’m out too. I think Harry had the last one this morning.”

“Who’s Harry?” He asks.

“Our new photographer. Got transferred from the Los Angeles branch a month ago. Very handsome.”

Molly exaggeratedly wiggles her eyebrows and Louis rolls his eyes fondly. She pauses then, and frowns.

“You two haven’t met yet?” She asks.

“No, not yet. Should I be worried then? Is the tea thief that bad, huh?”

“No it’s not that, just...hum. Maybe you shouldn’t go to your office right now.” She blurts. 

Louis eyes her quizzically. “What about my office?”

“Let’s just say Harry needed space and Jules hasn’t cleared out her desk yet so he’s-”

“Wait, wait a second.” He cuts in. “Jules is leaving?”

“You don’t know about that either, brilliant.” She says with a high-pitched voice. “You should really talk to Connor. Okay, I’m out, bye!” She takes three steps backwards and disappears out of the kitchen leaving Louis wondering what the bloody hell happened while he was gone. His tea long forgotten, he heads to his own office, determined to find out who this Harry guy is and why his favourite intern is gone.

 

As it turns out, Louis’ office is a war zone. There are boxes everywhere, some piles even reaching the ceiling. There are initials scribbled on the boxes marked _HS,_ and Louis can’t help but dislike this Harry fellow even though they haven't met yet. Whoever thought it was okay to invade Louis’ space has a thing coming their way.

No longer able to stand the mess, Louis gets out of the office with the loud bang of the door and heads straight to Connor’s office. The designer is gone now, so Louis knocks on the wide-open door with a bit more force than necessary. Connor looks up and when he sees Louis, his instant reaction is to smile. Louis’s face must give him away though, because Connor’s expression turns sour; he’s clearly aware of Louis’s foul mood.

“Come on in, Lou, come on in.” Connor says.

“Hey, boss.” Louis bites out.

“Take a seat, we have a lot to talk about.” Connor chirps.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Louis huffs. He sits on the chair opposite Connor and crosses his arms defensively. “Maybe we should start with why there are hundreds of boxes in my office or why you let go of Jules when you promised me you’d hire her at the end of her contract.”

Connor puts his elbow on the desk, entangles his hands and lets his chin rest on them. He studies Louis for a second, looking exasperated, yet amused.

“You are lucky we’re friends, because usually I don’t let my employees have a say on my managerial decisions.”

“I don’t mean to be challenging, you know that.” Louis says with a sheepish smile.“But seriously, when did all of this happen?”

Connor takes a deep breath and slumps into his chair.

“Okay, well, long story short, I got a call at the beginning of the summer from the editor-in-chief in Los Angeles. He told me that Harry Styles wanted to move back to England, so I proposed for Ben to transfer him here. You know who he is, right?”

Louis nods. Of course he knows who Harry Styles is. He’s the son of Anne Twist, wildlife photographer, Pulitzer winner, and animal rights defender. Harry chose to follow in his mother’s footsteps, and he’s a crazy good photographer as well. Louis always chooses the pictures going with his articles, even when he doesn’t have to, and he can’t even count the number of occasions he picked Harry's shots in the company’s database. The guy has an incredible eye, and Louis loves how he manages to capture what’s exceptional in the most random things. 

“Turns out I’ll have to make another set of budget cuts this year, and I can’t afford to pay Harry and Jules. I don’t even have a proper office for him right now, so I offered yours while you were abroad, and we agreed on a bunch of improvements for the darkroom.”

“You what?” Louis’ jaw goes slack.

“It’s nothing too fancy, but Harry suggested it and I thought why not? This is a long-term investment for us.”

Louis stays silent as he tries to process it all without causing a scene. God knows he wants to. He tries to school his expression but he’s aware he’s miserably failing when Connor stands from his chair and comes to sit on the empty one beside Louis, erasing the metaphorical distance between Louis and his boss.

“Look, Louis, I’m sorry about Jules, but I couldn’t let an opportunity like this one slip through my fingers. Harry is a great asset to this company, and he would have quit otherwise. I’m sorry about your office but I had to put him somewhere, didn’t I? The place will be cleared out for when you return, I promise.”

“Do I get to meet him?” Louis finally says after a pregnant silence.

“He’s out in the field, today. His very first assignment, actually. You’ll have plenty of time to meet him another time.” Connor says. “Let’s talk about you, okay? How was your summer?”

Louis purses his lips but nods and despite the frustration growing in the pit of his stomach, he starts debriefing his articles with Connor. He’ll deal with Harry in due time.

***

When Louis exits the HD building, he’s still struggling with all the information he had to absorb. He goes straight to Zayn’s flat and for a second, he fears his best friend is not home, but the buzzer goes off and he pushes through the door of the building.

He’s clearly overreacting, he hasn’t even met Harry but he doesn’t like him. Who does he think he is? Asking for material improvements, claiming Louis’ office as his own, drinking Louis’ tea? Unacceptable. How did he even convince Connor to modernise the darkroom? Connor doesn’t make that kind of gesture. When Louis asked for a new, albeit expensive recorder last year, Connor dismissed him with a glare. Harry must have used some weird convincing techniques to perform such a miracle.

Besides, Harry is probably not aware his transfer is the cause of Jules’ departure, but Louis holds him responsible for the turn of events. He doesn’t know why Harry wanted to come back to England either, but he honestly doesn’t give a damn what his reasons are.

 Zayn has left the door of his flat open, so Louis lets himself in, takes off his shoes and goes straight to the living room where he finds his best friend on the sofa smoking what is definitely a fat joint. Louis collapses gracelessly on the sofa and snatches the joint out of Zayn’s hand. He takes a long drag and closes his eyes. The weed calms him instantly, but not enough to completely erase the annoyance bubbling in his stomach.

“What happened?” Zayn asks.

Louis exhales loudly, and takes another drag before giving the joint back. His eyes are still closed but he can feel Zayn’s eyes on him. 

“We have a new photographer and I don't like him. Not one bit.”

He launches into the retelling of the day, and he knows he’s being dramatic but he’s upset and he can’t help it. Zayn listens carefully, and doesn’t comment until Louis is finished.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting, Lou? I mean, it sucks that Jules has to go but you can do something about it. Just write her a killer letter of recommendation and she’ll find something else if she’s as talented as you say she is.”

Zayn crushes the butt of the joint in the ashtray and envelops Louis in a comforting hug. Louis is pouting against his shoulder, so Zayn tightens his hold on him.

“And seriously Lou, about the tea? And your office? It’s no big deal. You can buy more tea and Connor said your office will be cleared out. You barely spend time there anyway.”

“You don’t understand, Zee. It’s not just about my office, or tea. It’s about invading my space, touching my things. The lad arrived a month ago and he’s already doing as he pleases, as if he owns the place. I don’t like it!”

Zayn laughs loudly at that, and Louis entangles himself from him with a deep frown on his face.

“That’s not funny! Stop making fun of me, you wanker!”

“Oh come on, Lou. It is a bit funny. You’re acting like a child.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!” Zayn giggles. “You haven’t even met him and you talk about the guy like he’s the plague. Seriously. ”

Louis settles on the opposite corner of the sofa and glares at his best friend with all the annoyance he can muster. He’s not being dramatic. Not at all.

“Let’s watch a movie and order something in, okay? I’ll roll another joint and we can relax. What do you say?”

Louis huffs but nods in agreement. He loves Zayn for not indulging him when he’s being extra, but he would have liked for his best friend to be more supportive on this one. He still has to meet Harry Styles, that much is true. He knows they’ll probably have to work on assignments together in the forthcoming months, but Louis doesn’t plan to go easy on him. He doesn’t have to like the guy for them to be colleagues, right? He keeps his thoughts to himself though, knowing that Zayn will disapprove.

 

*** 

What is left of September goes by faster than Louis would have liked. He goes to the London Music Institute to get his assignment for the year, and as he expected, he gets two groups of teenagers, aged between 15 and 19. He plans his classes accordingly, and it’s not really a hardship since he has to keep up with what the youth listens to these days.

Lottie arrives mid-September, and the whole ‘Harry Styles is a pebble in my shoe’ thing is quickly forgotten in the presence of his young sister. They spend the week catching up, spending time with Zayn and going to fancy restaurants. Now that he can, he feels obligated to treat his sister to what is best. She’s doing good for herself, but Louis insists on taking care of all expenses. Lottie tells him he doesn’t have to but he shushes her every single time; if he wants to spoil his baby sister, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

Surprisingly, Lottie has no interest in helping her big brother redecorate his flat, and instead he gets dragged on a massive shopping spree for herself the day before she leaves. Louis feels like a butler as he follows her with a dozen shopping bags through the busy streets of London, but the smile on her face is totally worth it.

The day she’s meant to leave, Louis takes her to [34 Mayfair](https://www.instagram.com/p/BZV98aqHw5G/?taken-by=34restaurant), a fancy restaurant renowned for its delicious brunch. They eat fluffy pancakes dripping with raspberry sauce, perfectly cooked benedict eggs and smoked salmon on toasts. The waiter brings them pots of tea as well, and they sip it from cute little china cups that match the flowery design of the restaurant.

Lottie beams at him when Louis admits he’s going to miss her terribly. She makes a grabby gesture at him, and even if he gives her an eye roll, he still takes her hands into his own and squeezes tightly.

“Come to New York when it gets too much, Lou. I know you have Zayn here, but you know you’re always welcome at my place.”

“I will, I promise. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine.” He says.

“You keep saying that and yet, you haven’t mentioned anyone… special.”

Louis scoffs at her, and retrieves his hands from her hold. He sips on his tea purposely slow, hoping she’ll let it go because there’s no way he’s telling his baby sister he has plenty of sex with strangers he never sees again.

“You do realise that Zayn is straight and that you boys are not getting a ‘let’s get married when we’re thirty and alone’ type of ending, right?”

Louis chokes on his tea, and Lottie lets out a snicker.

“Yeah, Lotts, I know Zee’s straight, thank you very much. I just don’t have time for a relationship. Between the magazine and the institute, it’s just-”

“What about the new photographer?”

“Harry?” Lottie nods, and Louis scrunches up his nose. “Okay, first, I don’t date co-workers. Second, I don’t even know what he looks like”.

“Well, I do. He’s hot, Lou. I googled him and I think you should go for it.”

Lottie perks up at the idea and Louis, well. Louis wonders what his life has come to. It was bad enough to have Zayn mock him for his dramatics, but now his sister wants him to settle down with Harry? Wonderful.

“I don’t care if he’s hot. He’s someone I’m going to work with. Besides, which part about me not liking him did you miss?”

“You’ll change your mind, you’ll see.” She replies with a smug smile. Louis hates that smile.

  

Later in the day, Louis drops Lottie off at the airport and promises to come visit her in New York as soon as he can. He tries not to let her absence ruin his good mood, but back at his flat, he can’t help but feel lonely. Her empty coffee mug is on the kitchen counter and her perfume stills lingers in the air.

Louis grabs his laptop for a distraction and spots the letter of recommendation he wrote for Jules sitting on his desktop. He sends her a short email to say that he’s available if she ever needs anything, and that he’s sorry things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. Jules replies a few minutes later, and her optimism shines through her answer. She thanks him profusely for the letter of recommendation and promises to keep in touch. He has no doubt she’ll make it in the business, with or without his interference. Somehow reassured, he settles in front of the TV for another classic night in. Who needs a boyfriend when Netflix exists, really.

 

***

It’s October first when Louis goes back to work. He feels rejuvenated from his time off, and he’s set on not letting anything kill his good mood, not even the inevitable encounter with Harry Styles. He wakes up early and takes his time to get ready, choosing carefully his outfit of the day. He picks a baby blue sweater that matches his eyes, dark blues jeans and a pair of shiny brown boots. Louis decides to complete his outfit with the dark brown suede jacket worth half his salary Gigi gave him for his last birthday.

He still hasn’t cut his hair so he puts some product in it and opts for a fluffy quiff to highlight his cheekbones. If it takes him half an hour to get it done the way he likes it, nobody has to know.

Louis will deny it if anyone (Zayn) asks, but he wants to look good, and more than that, he wants to impress Harry. He feels the irrational need to make an impression on the man who seems to have seduced his way through his boss’s heart; it’s childish of Louis, but he likes to be the golden son, and he doesn’t want that to change.

Satisfied with the way he looks, he leaves his flat ready to face whatever this day is going to throw at him.

The atmosphere at work is much more relaxed than the last time he was here. Lisa, the girl at the reception desk is on the phone, but she greets him with a wave and asks him silently to wait for a second. Louis cracks his knuckles as he waits for her phone call to end and he doesn’t miss the way she rolls her eyes at her correspondent. Finally, the person hangs up, and Lisa turns her full attention to him.

“Good morning, Louis! How are you?”

“I’m great, love, how are you?”

“Oh, you know, same old same. People call to complain about articles you guys write, and I try to explain that I can’t do anything about it, but you think they’d listen to me? Noooo, they keep talking and talking and talking. I swear, Louis, some people really have time to waste.”

Louis chuckles but he doesn’t push her to continue, he knows Lisa could go on for hours if he lets her.

“Is there anything you wanted to tell me?” 

“Oh, yes, actually-” She rummages through the papers laid out before her and hands him a piece of paper littered with her scrawny writing. “Here is a list of people who requested an interview with you during your absence. Also, the new photographer wants to meet you? He said so this morning when he arrived, but I don’t know what he wants. He’s really cute, that one.” She says with a smile. 

 _Is there anyone not in love with Harry Styles?_ He wonders exasperatedly.

“Did he say where I can find him?” Louis asks flatly.

“Hum, no, but I guess his office?”

“You mean, my office?”

“I guess, yeah.” She offers with a contrite smile.

“Splendid. Thank you, love.”

Louis pockets the list of potential interviewees, turns on his heels and heads straight to his office.

The first thing Louis notices is that, no, his office hasn’t been cleared out yet. It’s nothing compared to the chaotic state he found it weeks ago, but there are still a few boxes here and there that don’t belong to him. In the center of the room, a man is crouching down in front of an open box filled with what seem to be camera lenses. Louis can’t see his face since the man’s body is turned the other way around, and Louis hates his treacherous mind for making appreciative notes against his will. _Broad shoulders, short hair, black shoes with a golden bee on the heel, nice_.

He doesn’t wait for an invitation (it’s his office, for God’s sake) and he steps inside with a schooled expression on his face. He walks around his desk and falls nonchalantly in his chair, catching the man’s attention finally.

“Well, hello there.” Louis says with a tight smile.

The man doesn’t answer immediately but stands up from his position on the floor and _what the hell ?_ Louis curses internally.

Lottie was right; Harry Styles is really, really hot. If the view from behind was definitely nice, it’s nothing compared to what Louis is forced to look at right now.

[Harry](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/170473218561/stylesprimes-favourite-frames-only-angel-at) is wearing a black fitting shirt tucked in high-waist black pants that beautifully compliment his lean figure. His arms are covered with tattoos, and his hands are adorned with big silver rings that shine under the neon lights of Louis’s office. His dark brown hair is cut short but Louis spots a couple of strands curling around his face.

There’s something boyish about him, a softness in his traits, a gentleness in the way his eyes crinkle with mirth that clashes with the sharp angles and planes of his body.

Harry Styles is a beautiful contradiction, soft rosy lips and strong hands, deep dimples and muscular thighs, and Louis, well… Louis feels dazed.

“You must be Louis Tomlinson. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Harry Styles, the new photographer.”

Louis doesn’t answer right away, his brain a bit mushed by the sight of the gorgeous man in front of him, but Harry seems unfazed, as if he’s used to get that kind of reaction out of people. He waits patiently for Louis to recover, smirk evident on his face.

When Louis finally shakes himself out of his trance, he stands up from his chair and extends his hand for Harry to shake. A large palm engulfs his own small one and Louis feels electricity coursing through him, from his fingertips all the way up to his shoulder. He snatches his hand from Harry, and let it settle on his cocked hip. 

“So, I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable here.”

“Yeah, sorry, about that.” Harry looks around guiltily as he scratches his left cheek. “My office is not ready yet, and Connor said it was okay…”

“I mean, it was as long as I wasn’t here, but I’d really like to have my office back now.” Louis replies annoyingly.

“Okay…” Harry responds with a drawling voice. His eyes dart away from the mess and settle on Louis’ face in a way that makes Louis slightly uncomfortable, like he’s being studied. “By the way, I look forward to working with you, I’ve only heard good things and-“

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. I have my habits when it comes to work, and I’d rather not change them.” Louis bites back. “Actually, my best photographer got sacked because of you so I’m not sure I’m as excited as you are. “

Harry frowns, clearly taken aback by Louis’ comment. He fiddles with his rings, bringing Louis’ attention to his hands and _those are very nice hands_ , Louis thinks.

“I’m sorry about that, Louis. I didn’t know it took Jules leaving for me to be here until she left.”

“No need to dwell on it mate, you’re here now so I guess I’ll just have to deal. It’s not like we don’t have other talented photographers I can work with.” It’s unnecessary, and quite rude but Louis can’t find it in him to care. “Just… get all of your stuff out of here. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Harry nods, his lips pressed in a thin line but he doesn’t utter a word, so Louis takes three long strides toward the door and rushes out of the office. He doesn’t get to see Harry’s shoulders slump in defeat.

Louis keep his eyes on the ground as he quickly makes his way to the staff kitchen, a gnawing feeling in his stomach that doesn’t sit well. Now that he has found refuge in the thankfully empty space, he lets out a heavy breath he didn’t realise he was holding in. He’s acting like a right twat, he knows, but Harry’s charming behaviour rubs him the wrong way.

He plops down on a chair and puts his head on the cold plastic of the kitchen table, hands buried in his hair as he tries to rearrange his thoughts.

The thing is, Louis sees someone else when he looks at Harry, and now that he thinks of it, it’s so obvious he doesn’t understand why it hits him only now.

_He’s charming, confident, pretty as hell and he has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand._

 

Louis gets flashbacks of a crooked smile, hazelnut eyes and tattoos that don’t belong to the new photographer, but to a former friend he liked more than he should have. Someone who didn’t hesitate for a second when the opportunity to screw Louis over to get on top presented itself. Harry Styles is an updated version of Declan Hudson, the last man who got into Louis’ heart and crushed it.

Back when Louis was an intern fresh out of college, he was lucky enough to get an internship at Rolling Stone magazine, and he was paired up with Declan to assist the journalists working for the politics column. The two men hit it off from day one, and they became inseparable. They had the same sense of humour, the same passion for journalism and lots of ambition.

After a couple of weeks working in tandem, Louis was positive everyone thought they were together, or at least that they were having sex. The undeniable chemistry between the two of them made Louis believe for a while they could be more than friends who work together. Declan was pretty, bisexual and charming, which in Louis’ book was enough to make for a nice boyfriend. He had never been really lucky in love, and Declan was an angel in skin-tight jeans sent from above. 

They kissed once, a kiss Louis initiated while drunk off his ass, but Declan put a stop to it and told him they should stay friends because he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk. It took some time for Louis to accept the rejection (something he wasn’t use to, honestly) but eventually, he accepted the fact that Declan was a friend who liked to flirt without it meaning anything. 

Louis was always eager to help him, whether it was for completing an assignment on time or selling his article ideas to their editor-in-chief. He spent countless nights going over his crush’s articles, editing them until they were perfect and ready for publishing. He was there when Declan needed reassurance or for cuddling sessions that never failed to send Louis into sleepless nights of pining. He was so infatuated with the other man that he convinced himself their relationship would eventually evolve into something deeper, something greater than what they had.

Declan’s true nature was revealed a few days before their six-month internship came to end, when the other man admitted that he had been offered a permanent position at the magazine. He had found out a month prior that one of them could be hired if deemed worthy, and he purposely kept Louis in the dark to ensure himself the position. Louis also found out that he got the intel by sleeping with one of the sub editors of the staff. It hurt.

What had been one of the most fulfilling experiences of his life got tainted with the memory of betrayal, and Louis swore to himself that he’d never let anyone get close enough to screw him the way Declan did. In his line of work, lots of people had tried to charm Louis and use him but they never got to him, because he had learned his lesson the hard way.

But right now, sitting in the kitchen staff by himself, Louis feels stupid. Harry is not Declan, and it’s not fair to judge him because of a bad experience Louis had years ago. He got over his insecurities, learned from his mistakes; he’s not a naive newbie anymore. He knows he could learn a lot working with Harry, who after all is one of the most talented photographers of his generation.

Louis grunts and pulls at his hair exasperatedly for a while, but eventually he stands from his chair, and goes back to his office only to find it empty. Harry is nowhere to be seen and the boxes are gone as well. Louis doesn’t let the guilt submerge him, and as he gets situated behind his desk and turns on his computer, he tells himself he’ll soon get the chance to show Harry he’s not a total dickhead. For now, he needs to focus on his job.

 

***

It takes an entire week for Louis to have a chat with Harry that doesn’t consist in a polite, two-word exchange. Nobody comments on it and Louis is grateful for that, but he can’t deny he’s coming to work every day that week just so he can observe Harry from afar.

Harry doesn’t seem to hold a grudge against Louis despite the poor welcome he got from him; the photographer always offers a genuine smile when he crosses paths with Louis, but there’s something awkward in the way he always averts his eyes quickly. Louis wants to correct that as soon as possible because for some reasons, he wants Harry to like him. Every time he’s about to corner Harry and put his apology plan into action, something or someone comes up, ruining his attempt at redeeming himself in the eyes of the photographer.

So yeah, Louis spends a lot of time observing Harry and no, he decides he’s not being a creep. By day five, he’s sure of three things:

First, Harry Styles has a wild sense of fashion. He likes flowers, the colour pink, silk shirts, Hawaiian shirts even, and flared trousers. His rainbow Gucci loafers are his signature, as much as the ever present silver rings adorning his long fingers. 

Second, _everybody_ loves Harry. From the photography team to the graphic designers, even the interns - everybody bloody loves him. Harry is nothing but kind, he’s always ready to help and he doesn’t treat people differently whether it’s the janitor making his rounds in the evenings or Connor.

He’s also a master of bad puns and those spread through the staff like a disease. If Louis has to hear another knock knock joke, he might strangle a co-worker.

Third, Louis can’t find a single reason not to like Harry and it’s annoying him beyond common sense. If he doesn’t find a valid reason to, he knows he’ll end up wrapped around Harry’s finger just like everyone else, and from there it’s just a slippery slope really.

It’s just so frustrating to admit that Harry’s probably the most endearing person Louis has met for a long time.

Harry has the most ridiculous laugh Louis has ever heard; sometimes it’s honky, sometimes it’s loud and boisterous, other times it’s just a light, airy giggle but it never fails to make Louis smile despite himself.

There’s also the fact that Harry doesn’t seem to care about what people think about him and on multiple occasions, Louis catches him making a fool of himself for everyone’s delight.

He’s not the class clown like Louis can be, but he’s not afraid of people judging him for being weird or extra. Like that one time when Louis walked by his boss’s office only to find Connor half bent on his chair, his cheeks pink and his eyes wet from laughter, while Harry was performing an exotic dance with his long limbs dangling awkwardly along his body. Louis is sure Harry saw him outside the office, but he just kept going with it. That’s just who he is, it seems.

Today, Louis has to attend a mandatory meeting Connor set up with all the journalists, and Harry is supposed to be there, even though he’s not one of them. Louis sees it as an opportunity to prove he’s not as bad as he appeared on their first encounter.

Louis is already in his designated seat next to Connor when the photographer enters the room, and Harry offers a smile before glancing away. He gracefully moves through the meeting room and takes a seat on the opposite corner of the large round table, next to Molly who looks ecstatic to have him by her side. Harry sets a large digital tablet in front of him and fiddles with it for a while as he half listens to what Molly says, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Connor is not here yet, and since the meeting can’t start without him, Louis takes his time to observe Harry. From where he’s sitting, he can only spot a few things; the ever-present rings, the mostly opened silky pink shirt and the tattoos underneath, a pendant on a thin chain dangling against his chest every time he moves. Harry runs a hand through his hair then, and his gaze shifts from Molly to Louis, his hand stills as he realises Louis is staring.

 _This is your chance, Tommo_ , Louis thinks, and so he grins and his nose scrunches up in an adorable way (or so Zayn says, whatever). Harry looks surprised but smiles back nonetheless, and Louis considers it a small victory.

The loud bang of the door signals the entry of their editor-in-chief, and everyone goes into professional mode in a blink of an eye. 

From what Louis understands, Connor wants Harry to be here to make it easier for him to handle the coordination between the photographers and the journalists, which basically makes him head of photography. It’s a prestigious position for someone who’s only twenty six, but Harry’s talent works in his favour. Rumour has it his mom got him his first camera when he was six, so maybe he can even be considered a senior in the field.

Connor starts the meeting with numbers and ratings, and Louis is bored out of his mind. He keeps chewing on his pen to avoid looking at Harry, which is definitely the perfect way to get blue ink in his mouth and look like a messy schoolboy. Maybe, just maybe, it’s better to just indulge himself and focus on the tattooed man across the room at this point.

Harry dutifully nods when it’s needed and his suggestions are on point, as if he’s been part of the team forever. It’s not like he doesn’t know how the company works, but it’s one thing to take pictures here and there for the website, and another to handle both the printed issue and keep a close look on what’s published online. It’s a lot of responsibility, and Louis is curious to know how he’ll handle the pressure.

Connor finally moves on to the interesting part of the meeting, and Louis sighs in relief. Some of the articles for the next issue are already taken care of, but there are still blank pages to fill and he needs his team to cover a few events.

“So I need someone for the Premiere of the new Wes Anderson movie” Connor says and Molly raises her hand faster than a speeding bullet.

“Me, me, me! Please, pick me, boss!”

“Alright, so it’s yours, Molly.” Connor chortles. “I also need someone for the new play ‘A very, very, very, dark matter’ at the Bridge theatre. Looks really promising from what I read so far.”

“I can do it.” Louis offers nonchalantly. It’s been a while since he covered a play, but he’s not opposed to shaking things up a bit.

“I’ve already got something for you, Lou.” Connor says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Please, do tell, boss.”

“You’re covering the band Velvet Riot with Harry.”

“Who the fuck are Velvet Riot?” Louis snorts.

“They’re Americans, started off last year.” Harry supplies. “It’s their first show in Europe, actually. They’re good friends of mine.”

“Oh. Okay, then. When is the concert?”

“Tomorrow night.” Connor supplies. “They’re playing at the Bush Hall venue. You can go through details with Harry later, he knows all about it.”

“Alright, it’s settled then.” Louis nods and writes down the info.

Connor wraps up the meeting soon after, and as everyone ushers out of the room, Louis purposely stalls to have a word with Harry, who’s still talking to Molly about god knows what. They finally part ways and Molly exits the room with a slight blush on her cheeks.

 _Another victim of the Styles charm,_ Louis thinks.

Harry’s attention is still focused on his tablet as he stands up from his spot and walks towards the door so Louis decides to intercept him.

“Hey, Styles! What time should we meet, then?”

Harry stops in his tracks, startled a bit at Louis interrupting his thoughts. Obviously he hasn’t seen that Louis was still in the room. Confusion quickly fades from his features though, replaced by a genuine smile.

“Hmm, the venue opens at 6, so let’s meet there at 6.30, I’d say.”

“Cool, cool. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Yeah? About the band, you mean? Thought you didn’t want to work with me.” Harry says with one eyebrow raised. He looks surprised by Louis’ enthusiasm.

“About that, I didn’t mean to be a twat, I just…” Louis pauses, guilt washing over him at the memory of their first encounter. “I was upset about Jules and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.” Louis says apologetically. “I mean it.”

“That’s fine.” Harry says with a blinding smile. “I’m just glad we can get past that and work together.”

Louis wonders how he does that, how he makes one feel like the center of the universe with a simple smile. The thought surprises him, but he chases it away. He’s so not going there.

“So, is this band any good or what?” Louis asks, eager to change the subject.

“Yeah, they are. I might be a bit biased since they’re friends of mine, but I reckon they’re good. Met them in LA a few years ago. Ed Sheeran introduced us, actually.”

“No shit, you know Ed?”

“Yeah, he’s good a friend.” 

“He’s a good friend of mine too!”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry chuckles. “He told me you guys met when his second album came out.”

“Yeah, we did. I interviewed him before he went on tour and we just clicked, I guess. It’s hard not to like the lad, honestly.”

“Funny, that’s exactly what he said about you.” Harry says in a playful tone.

“He only likes me for my reviews, he knows I could bring him down if I wanted.”

“Said you were a handful, too.” Harry adds coyly.

Louis rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “You’re something else, Styles, I swear.” Louis glances away before he adds. “Glad I haven’t scared you off, though.”

“Nah, you were upset, I get it. Like I said let’s move on.”

Harry extends his hand as a peace offering, and Louis takes it without hesitation, glad to have cleared the air between them. They shake hands briefly but Harry doesn’t let go of Louis’s hand; as he twists his wrist around, Louis’ arm follows, dark ink catching Harry’s attention in the process, greedy eyes trailing over the designs.

“I like them.” He says simply. “Got a lot myself.”

Harry lets go of Louis’ hand in favour of tracing the compass tattoo with his fingertips, and the gesture is so intimate Louis feels a blush creep up on his cheek. His skin tingles, warmth spreading through him, and he wants to snatch his arm away but he stays frozen as Harry’s fingers graze his skin delicately, exploring the other tattoos etched on his skin.

“I’d like to know the stories behind them.” Harry whispers.

Louis recoils at that, his goosebump covered arm dropping by his side awkwardly as he does so, and he clears his throat loudly. The sound brings Harry’s attention back to him.

“Tattoos can be very personal, Styles.” Louis says, relieved to find his voice steady. “Not sure I’m ready to share all that with you.”

“Sorry.” Harry says guiltily, his lower lip pinched between his teeth. “I’m being weird.” 

Louis huffs but doesn’t comment on it, not sure how to answer that anyway.

“I should get going, but I’ll send you the info for the concert as soon as I can, alright?” Harry says.

Louis nods in response, and as he watches Harry leave through the front door in indecent skin-tight jeans, he gets the strange feeling that Harry is going to be the death of him.

 

***

After work, Louis meets Zayn to blow off some steam with pints and fries at their usual pub situated in their old neighbourhood. Zayn is already sitting in their booth, sipping on his beer when Louis arrives, so Louis slides onto the opposite seat and snatches the pint out of Zayn’s hand. Louis smirks devilishly at his best friend, proud as one can be for not spilling a single drop on the table.

“Can you please stop doing that?” Zayn says with a pout, his amber eyes reduced to slits. “You always do that, Lou.”

“I’m sorry.” Louis retorts before taking a large gulp “but it always tastes better when it’s yours.”

“Give me that and go get your own, smartass.”

Louis chuckles all the way down to the bar and gets his own pint, but also orders a basket of chips and a burger for himself and chicken wings for Zayn. He doesn’t need to ask his best friend what he wants, the benefit of knowing someone for ten years.

Beer in hand, he returns back to their booth and plops down with a sigh. He knows that the first week going back to work is always straining, but he already feels drained of his energy and he hasn’t made it through yet.

“You okay?” Zayn asks. He brings his pint to his lips but his eyes never waver from Louis, concern etched on his face.

“I’m fine, just tired, I guess.” Louis takes a long sip. “I finally got to meet the famous Harry Styles by the way.”

“Sooo? How it did go?”

“Alright, a bit rocky at the beginning but I think it’ll be okay.”

“Come on, man, details.” Zayn urges.

“He's … nice. Actually good looking. Tall. Short hair, bit curly. He has fucking dimples.”

“Seems like you had quite a good look.” Zayn cuts in with a smile.

“Shut up. It’s not like that.”

“Right.” Zayn huffs.

“What is that supposed to mean, Malik?”

“You’re...” Zayn pauses, he stares at Louis like a hawk, and Louis can feel his cheeks getting hotter. “You think he’s hot!”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do.” Zayn sing songs. “A week ago, you were annoyed beyond common sense with the guy and now you’ve got this dreamy look on your face. You find him hot.”

“Shut up! What is it with you and Lottie trying to set me up with Styles? Seriously.” Louis rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“I’ve never said anything about setting you up… But now that you’ve mentioned it, why not?”

“Because! He’s a colleague and I don’t even know him.”

The waitress interrupts them when she brings their order and Louis quickly dives into the chips, hoping that the food will distract Zayn enough to drop it.

“Come on, Lou. Just say it.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Louis says, annoyed.

“Alright, alright.” Zayn raises his hands in surrender and grabs a chip from their shared basket. He’s munching on it when something flashes across his face. “ I gave my first lesson at the Institute this week.” 

“Yeah? How did it go?”

“It was awesome. The kids are so passionate, and some of them are so talented, I can’t wait to see what they come up with this year.”

“That’s great, Zee. Mine’s this weekend. I’m excited, a bit nervous though, you know me.”

“They’ll love you, Lou. They always do.”

“I’m pretty lovable, that’s true.”

Zayn kicks him in the shin and Louis lets out a string of curses. He tries to retaliate but Zayn is quick to block the kicks.

“You are a right menace, Malik. I hate you.” 

“No, you love me. And I love you too, Lou.”

Louis eyes him suspiciously at that. “What do you want?”

“What?” Zayn asks innocently.

“Cut the bullshit, I know you. You want something.”

Zayn first frowns indignantly, but deflates quickly at Louis’s impeccable instinct.

“Alright, okay.” Zayn runs a hand through his hair, eyelashes fluttering in quick succession.

 _He’s pulling the big guns, must be important_ , Louis thinks.

“One of my students is participating in an open-mic night next week, and she asked me if I could come. I want to be supportive, you know? But it makes me uncomfortable to go by myself. I don’t want her to get any ideas.”

Zayn pauses, fixing Louis with a pleading look no one can resist. “Will you come?”

“Dunno, love. I think it’d be funny to watch you struggle a bit. Can’t believe you taught one class and you already have this poor girl smitten with you.”

“Louuuu….” Zayn whines. “Please, be serious for a second.”

Louis taps his index finger against his chin, eyebrows frowned in fake hesitation, long enough to rile Zayn up a bit until Zayn is openly pouting in front of him.

“I’ll be there.” Louis says, finally.

Zayn beams and lets out a small “yay!”, his pint tipped against Louis’ in a celebratory toast, and Louis throws a chip at him, but smiles nonetheless. He could never say no to Zayn.

 

***

The sun is setting down when Louis arrives at the [Bush Hall venue](https://www.instagram.com/p/BMT--2RB8_Z/?taken-by=bushhallmusic) the next day, the clouds tinted pink, like cotton candy etched onto the blue and lavender sky. Louis takes a moment to appreciate the beauty of it as he lets his mind wander.

He’s always buzzing with excitement before a concert, always eager to discover new artists, but tonight there’s something stirring in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want to think about it when he should be getting into the right mindset to write his piece, but his treacherous mind provides it anyway.

 _You’re nervous to spend time with Harry._  

He lights up a cigarette and the smoke fills his lungs in a pleasant way, calming his nerves almost instantly. He takes deep drags in quick succession until he can feel the heat of the tip against his finger. He’s tempted for a second to light up another one, except it’s almost 6.30, and Harry must be in there already, waiting for him to show up.

Louis crushes the butt of his cigarette on the sidewalk, slides his pack of cigarettes into his pocket and readjusts his denim jacket.

 _You can do this_ , he tells himself as he pushes against the light blue door of the venue. 

The venue is empty, except for the technicians busying themselves with last minute arrangements. Louis spots a bar in the back of the impressive room, and Harry is there, perched on a bar stool with a cocktail in hand, talking to a pretty bartender with long blond hair.

She seems captivated by what Harry is saying, but she still notices Louis approaching them and glances up at him. Harry catches the movement and turns slightly on his stool.

“Hey, Louis.” Harry says, dimples popping out.

Louis’ eyes rake over Harry’s frame, a warm sensation spreading in his belly as he registers the simple white shirt tucked into mint cream coloured [pants](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172356951821/sstyles-vs-fashion-show-november-20th-2017). His hair is particularly curly today and Louis wants to run his fingers through it.

_Get a grip, Louis._

“Hiya, there.”

“You found the place alright?” Harry asks.

“Took a cab. Didn’t want to get lost.”

“First time here then?”

“Yeah, I’ve never got the chance to come here before. It’s nice.”

The venue is much bigger than what catches the eye from outside; the stage is small but the room in itself is huge, with cherry coloured leather sofas aligned against the walls, white columns at each corner and glass chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling.

“Do you want to drink something?” Harry asks.

 “I’ll be fine with a beer, thanks. Don’t want to be drunk for when the band comes on.”

The bartender nods and pours Louis his drink before slipping away through a backdoor, leaving Harry and Louis by themselves.

“So, did you listen to what these guys do?” Harry asks as he puts the straw between his lips.

“No, I chose not to. I like to be surprised.”

“I’m sure you’ll love them. The singer, Dennis, is a bit of a troublemaker but they have it in them to make it big, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry lets go of the straw and pinches his lower lip with two fingers, and Louis’ eyes get drawn to his mouth as if on instinct.

 _Those sinful lips_ , he thinks.

“Dennis was the typical rockstar even before they got recognition. He’s a bit of a stereotype to be honest. Sex, drugs and rock’n’roll, you know?”

Louis scoffs and takes a large gulp of his drink. He hates it when artists get a big head once they’re famous, but he hates it even more when they’ve got nothing to show for it. 

“Shouldn’t they be rehearsing by now?” Louis asks.

“They should be.” Harry says with a frown. He turns around on his stool, his attention now on the stage where two women are talking animatedly.

“The one with the afro is Jen, she’s the guitar player” Harry points out to the other woman, then. “And this is Nina. She’s the drummer.”

The two women keep arguing from afar, and Louis wonders what’s making them so agitated.

“Looks like something’s going on up there.” Louis points out.

Harry shrugs and brings back his attention to Louis. The show is supposed to start in less than twenty minutes, and the venue is slowly filling with people. Based on the capacity of the venue, Louis can tell hundreds of people could attend without making the atmosphere suffocating. It’s still early though, and Louis appreciates being able to have a drink before the show without the place being cramped.

“So, Louis…” Harry says seductively. “Tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell, really.”

“Oh, come on. You’re like the youngest junior editor HD has ever had, that’s something.”

Louis shrugs noncommittally, and grazes his finger on his pint, not looking at Harry.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Harry says as he leans in. “Are you from around here? I’d say no considering your accent. What about family, you have siblings, maybe? What’s your favourite colour? Are you a coffee or a tea person?”

“Slow down there, Styles.” Louis says chuckling.

“I’m just curious, it’s all. You’re quite a mystery to me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I love a good mystery.” Harry replies, grinning.

Louis peeks at Harry through his eyelashes, and Harry is looking at him like he’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. As much as Louis likes to be the center of the attention, being under Harry’s scrutiny makes him feel naked, exposed somehow, like Harry can see right through him.

“I’ve heard so much about you, you know?” Harry says. “I mean, even before my transfer was accepted, I had this intern that was literally in love with you? Kept saying you were as talented as you were hot. Even got me to read some of your articles.” 

“Who was it?” Louis asks curiously.

“A guy named Tom? Worked as an assistant photographer with me. Nice lad.” Harry says.

 _Oh. Oh!_ Louis thinks. He may or may not have had sex with the guy a couple years ago during a company event in Los Angeles. Whatever.

“He was right by the way.” Harry says as he brings the pink cocktail to his lips, his rings clinging against it with a clink.

“About what?” Louis can’t help but ask.

“About you. Being talented, and like, really hot.”

Louis glances down and gives a half-smile, and it’s like he can feel the heat spreading from his chest to his cheeks. 

In any other circumstances, Louis would totally flirt back, happy to play along with the almost certainty to bring this man back to his place to roll around in the sheets.

But Harry is a co-worker and they barely know each other. Louis is against work drama, always hated it, what with all the rumours and people hoping to get a glimpse at what happens in your intimacy.

Besides, he doesn’t know Harry enough to be sure he won’t be the one spreading those rumours, making him look like a fool at work. He can’t help but be suspicious of charming newcomers trying to coax him out of his shell.

He’s still pondering on what to retort back to Harry when the lights dim noticeably, signaling the start of the first act. Louis drains the last remnant of his beer and stands up from his stool; he needs to go to the bathroom anyway and it’s the perfect opportunity to escape Harry’s interrogations.

“I guess today’s not the day you’re unraveling the mystery, Styles.” Louis states as he put his empty pint glass on the bar. “The show’s about to start I think, we should move.”

“Okay.” Harry pouts. “I’m going to get us a spot in the front, alright?”

“Good idea. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Louis makes his way through the ever-growing crowd and quickly finds the bathroom in the right corner of the room. After relieving himself and washing his hands, Louis grips the sink with both hands and let out a sharp breath he didn’t realise he was holding. Whatever game Harry is playing, he’s definitely good at it. Louis is not one to get flustered so easily by a cute boy demanding his attention, and yet Harry manages to do that with all the confidence in the world.

_It’s fine, you’re fine. Get through the night and just… don’t indulge him._

Louis finds the room plunged in deep pink lights when he makes it out there. The crowd has increased considerably, and it takes him a while to reach the front. People grunt at him as he tries to breach the crowd, and he keeps muttering “sorry, sorry” until he finally gets to Harry.

Louis finds him at the front of the stage, and he takes the spot by his side. Harry is fiddling with the lens of his DSLR strapped around his neck and he’s biting his rosy chapped lips.

Louis squeezes his hip to make his presence known like he’d do with Zayn, but he hastily takes back his hand because Harry is not his best friend. Louis doesn’t get to touch him like this, not when they’re practically strangers, not if he’s set on dissuading Harry to go on with the flirty attitude. 

_So, yeah, rule number one, don’t touch. Even if you want to._

Harry smiles and bumps his shoulder with his as if to say it’s alright, with a wiggle of his shoulders.

“I can’t wait for you to see them on stage.” He says with an excited face. “I really love their songs.”

“Who writes them anyway?” Louis asks with curiosity. 

“Hum… Mostly Jen and Will. Dennis wrote a couple but he’s not really into the whole writing process, and Nina is the composer.”

“Any collabs?”

“Funny that you ask, I-”

Harry gets interrupted by loud cheers and whistles as a young man enters the stage with a guitar in his hand and a nervous expression on his face. Even from this distance, Louis can spot stains of perspiration on his armpits, and his hands keep tapping on his guitar, an obvious telltale of how nervous he must be.

“Hi everyone!” The guy says with a little tremor in his voice. “My name is Jared and I’m really happy to be with you tonight.”

The boy adjusts the mic in front of him and clears his throat, wincing as the noise echoes loudly through the room. “This is the first time I get to perform in front of so many people, so please be kind.”

As it turns out, this Jared lad is unbelievably talented. He has a raspy, soothing voice and Louis can’t get enough of him singing heartfelt ballads about long lost love and lonely nights spent under the stars. Louis gently sways his hips to the music, although he does glance up at Harry from time to time.

By the way Harry keeps taking pictures after pictures with a big grin on his face, Louis can tell he’s enthralled as well.

Harry catches Louis staring at some point and offers a soft smile, and Louis’ mind decides on his own volition to record this moment, to store it for rainy days, when Louis will need a happy memory to feel better. A stage, a young artist performing with his heart and Harry Styles, looking at him with crinkled eyes and a dimple showing. A moment of bliss.

The crowd cheers and claps after each song and Louis feels like he’s being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold winter afternoon. He doesn’t actually need to include Jared in his review, but he still takes his notepad out of his jacket pocket to write down notes. The man deserves some publicity, and Louis is happy to know he’ll get to put in a good word for him.

Jared ends his act after the fifth song under a round of applause, and the light gets turned on as soon as he leaves the stage with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes. 

“That was incredible.” Louis says, his own voice feeling strange to his ears as he comes down from his music high.

“Yeah, it was.” Harry says. “Felt like he poured his soul into his songs. So pure.”

Louis snorts and turns toward Harry.

“Big words there, Styles. You want to write my review maybe?” Louis jokes.

“I’ll have you know, Tomlinson, that I dive into music myself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. Used to have a band, we called ourselves White Eskimo. We were terrible.” Harry says with a shy smile then and Louis can feel one form on his face. “I took a minor in music in college, and my best friend Niall taught me how to play the guitar. We got a few gigs back then, nothing crazy but it was cool.”

“I bet. I can imagine hordes of girls throwing their bras at you.”

 “Happened a couple of times, yeah.” Harry hums. “Not that I cared, to be honest.” 

The light comes down at that exact moment, but it’s taking Louis a moment to really focus his attention on what’s going on on stage. Between the flirting and the offhand comment, Louis’ doubts about Harry’s sexuality are pretty much confirmed, but he can’t decide whether it makes him happy or not. Things would be clearly simpler if Harry was straight, but apparently the universe is not planning on making anything simple for Louis. Oh, well.

He doesn’t get the chance to dwell on that new information, as the crowd erupts in cries and whistles when the band finally gets on stage. Louis spots the two women he saw earlier, followed by a guy who positions himself at the keyboard and another one who goes to stand behind the mic.

 _So this is the infamous Dennis_ , Louis thinks as he takes a good look at the singer.

He is such a cliché rock star that Louis can’t help but snort. He’s wearing leather pants that leave little to the imagination, a ratty printed shirt, and his semi-long hair looks greasy even from where Louis is standing. He throws winks and kisses at the groupies glued to the barriers placed right below the stage - they lose their minds at the attention because of course they do - and the satisfied, smug smile he’s got on is enough to make Louis roll his eyes.

“Hi everyone.” Dennis says in a deep, raspy voice. “Thanks for coming tonight, this is our first show in England, we’re very excited to be here. We’re the Velvet Riot.”

The music starts filling the venue, and Louis gets swept away by the guitar player’s talent. She keeps her eyes closed as she lets the music fill her, and her fingers gracefully play the instrument as if it’s a continuation of her own being. _A natural_ , Louis thinks. She plays the last notes of the intro and then Dennis starts singing.

Louis’ attention flickers from the stage to Harry, who’s still by his side furiously taking pictures with his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue pinched between his teeth, and Louis thinks for a second that he would rather stare at Harry rather than redirect his attention to the stage, which he does reluctantly.

Louis doesn’t want to make assumptions here, but he’s pretty sure the singer is wasted. Dennis moves languidly, in a way that only people drunk off of their asses manage to. His mouth keeps rubbing on his mic in a way he might think is sexy but really, it’s not. 

If Louis can forgive the first false note, he can’t accept the ones following, nor can he even begin to imagine how a professional singer manages to forget lyrics on so many occasions. And as much as he wants to try and concentrate on the lyrics or the melody, it’s unsuccessful.

The musicians standing behind somehow make up for it as they carry Dennis through the entire act but it’s far from what Louis was expecting tonight. He was promised a pop rock band ready to put on a show for Christ’ sake, not a lousy singer letting down his mates. Louis is furious on their behalf.

Finally, Dennis announces it’s the last song, and Louis feels relieved.

From the very first notes, Louis can tell this song is miles away from what he heard since the beginning of the show. The melody is catchy and Louis gets carried away by the beat, his foot tapping in rhythm to the music. He peers at Harry by his side, who’s got a toothy smile on his face and something like pride in his eyes.

 

_Don’t know where you’re laying_

_Just know it’s not with me_

_Don’t know what I’d tell you if_

_I passed you on the street_

  _I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me_

_Oh! (Oh, Anna!)_

_Every time I see your face, there’s only so much I can take_

_Oh! (Oh, Anna!)_

 

The last song comes to and end, and Louis turns slightly toward Harry, who’s already looking at him inquisitively.

“Ready to go backstage?” Harry says after lowering himself down to whisper in his ear.

“I guess.” Louis whispers, but really what he wants to say is ‘don’t stand so close to me’.

 

Harry grabs his wrist without further ado and he makes his way through the scattered crowd, eager to leave the venue before the pubs nearby close for the night. Harry doesn’t let go of Louis until they reach the band dressing room. His thumb moves in small circles against Louis’wrist for a fraction of time, before he lets go and knocks on the door. Jen opens it with a frown and an aggressive ‘what is it?’ until she takes in Harry and Louis, and her whole demeanour changes.

“H! I’m so glad you’re here!” She goes straight for a hug and Harry returns the affection as he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

“Fuck, I’m so happy to see you, guys! You were great up there.”

Jen offers a weak smile but doesn’t comment, and she takes two steps aside to let Harry and Louis enter the room. Louis ponders if she’s aware of the true quality of their performance.

“This is Louis Tomlinson by the way.” Harry asserts as they make their way to the sofas placed in the center of the room. 

The keyboard guy and the drummer girl are already seated in one of them, drinking beers and talking, but the lead singer is nowhere to be seen. Louis takes a seat across from them, while Harry deposits his camera on a counter table delicately.

“He’s the brightest journalist HD has and-”

“Shut it, H. We know who he is.” A voice cuts in.

Louis turns around and watches Dennis make his way through the door and toward Harry with little balance. Once he’s in front of Harry, he grabs his shirt in his fist and drags him into a fierce hug.

“It’s good to see you.” Dennis slurs. His hand is caressing Harry’s back in a possessive way, and Louis can’t help it, he doesn’t like it.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Harry replies, his voice muffled with his head buried in the other man’s chest. 

Since Dennis hasn’t properly acknowledged Louis’ presence, Louis stands from his spot and offers a hand for the lead singer to shake. He’s not trying to break the embrace, not at all.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too.” Dennis says and Louis doesn’t remember the last time he felt this dismissed. Dennis lets go of Harry and shakes Louis’ hand, but he’s still looking at Harry and Louis’ grip gets firmer. Louis can smell vodka and smoke so strongly on the other man his stomach lurches a bit.

“Should we get the interview started, then?” Louis offers with the fakest smile.

“Not until we do celebratory shots!” Dennis shouts out. “And I’m not taking no for an answer, guys.”

“Nothing for me, I still have to write my review, and I’d rather do that sober.”

“What about you, babe, huh?” Dennis asks Harry. “You’re not a pussy, right? Gonna make shots with your old buddy?”

“Maybe after, Den. Louis is right, we should-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” Dennis sing songs. 

He plasters his body against Harry’s, makes an awkward shimmy move against him, and Louis can’t help but glare at him. He knows the lad is drunk and he doesn’t want to make a scene, but he’s pretty sure he just got called a pussy, and the proximity with Harry bothers him.

Dennis starts tickling Harry and Harry barks out a laugh under his hands, begging him to stop. The two are clearly happy to see each other after god knows how long so he lets them have their little reunion. He takes his seat back on the sofa facing the other members of the band and takes out his notepad and small recorder, ready to get the interview started.

Dennis drags Harry in the right corner of the room where a bar has been set, ignoring Louis in the process and Louis doesn’t understand why the singer is paying him no attention since he’s here to write about his band, but by the way he keeps his body unnecessarily close to Harry, whispering into Harry’s ear all the while touching him, Louis figures he’s more interested in talking with Harry rather than make a good impression.

 _Ignore them for now_ , Louis thinks.

When Louis glances up to the musicians in front of him, he can’t decide which one has the worst expression on their face. Jen is fuming, and her cheeks are a deep red as she throws virtual daggers at Dennis. Nina seems to want to be anywhere but here, and the keyboard guy has his arms crossed against his chest, a bored look on his face.

“You guys did good up there.” He says, trying to ease the palpable tension in the room.

The off handed comment brings their attention back to Louis, and Nina, who’s sitting between the two, places a hand on each of their knees in a comforting manner. Jen and the guy automatically cover her hands with theirs, and Louis likes what he sees. Cohesion is what makes a band stand, and these three seem to be very in tune with each other.

“You’re Will, right?” Louis says as he extends his hand toward the keyboard guy. “It’s nice to meet you, man.”

“It’s cool to meet you.” Will smiles shyly at Louis as they quickly shake hands. “Even cooler that you’re writing about us.”

 “Well, don’t get excited yet, man.” Louis jokes. “I have a lot of questions for you guys.”

The band quickly warms up to him, just like everybody does when Louis decides to turn the charm on, and they even banter here and there when it feels appropriate. Nina is definitely more reserved than the other two, but she got good comebacks, and Louis sees a little bit of a younger Lottie in her. Jen is without a doubt the fiery-tempered one in the band, but her laugh is contagious and she has no filter, which is always a good quality in Louis’ opinion.

They’re talking inspiration and favourite bands when Harry plops down on the sofa next to Louis with a bottle of water in one hand and his camera in the other. His cheeks are coloured with the prettiest shade of pink, and there’s a rebel curl plastered on his forehead. He looks drunk and adorable.

“Don’t mind me.” Harry says with a giggle. “Just taking backstage pictures for posterity.”

“Where is Dennis?” Jen inquires with a frown.

“Said he needed to go to the bathroom.”

Jen looks at his bandmates with alarm, but recovers quickly as if she’s reminded that they’re not alone in the room. She excuses herself and promptly leaves the room with the other two in toe without any explanation.

“What was that?” Louis frowns. 

“I don’t know.” Harry slurs. He’s slouched on the sofa next to him, whistling one of the band’s songs they heard earlier.

“You drunk, Styles?”

“I… Yeah. Yes, I am.”

“How much did you have? I’ve been with these guys for like twenty minutes.”

“Dennis made me do vodka shots, okay? And I’m a lightweight, always have been.”

“I can see that.” Louis snickers.

“Heeeey, don’t make fun of me! I needed it, I was nervous and I … never mind.”

Harry redirects his attention on his camera and as he slides through the pictures, looking away on purpose, Louis still catches the slightest blush creeping up on Harry’s cheek.

“Why were you nervous, Harry?" Louis asks with a frown. "Did he-” 

“No, no, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? You know, if we work together, I need to know if something makes you uncomfortable or anything.”

Harry stays silent for a while, and Louis has the feeling he’s not going to get an answer to that, so he sighs and redirects his attention to his notepad. He’s flipping through his notes when Harry finally musters the courage to respond.

“You make me nervous.” Harry whispers.

He exhales loudly and his eyes flicker from his camera to Louis, their eyes meeting in a clash of blue and green, and Louis gets lost in them. He has never paid attention really, never has been so close to Harry to actually make out the details; but right now, he can see every hue of gold, every touch of brown in them. They’re so beautiful Louis wants to drown in them.

_Get a fucking grip, Tommo._

Louis let his eyes wander over Harry’s face, from his cheekbones to his nose, and finally to his lips, and he’s trapped. They look so pink and so, so soft and Louis doesn’t register moving closer.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are, Louis?” Harry breathes out.“So pretty.”

Louis gulps down with difficulty, the comment provoking a strange mix of feelings in his gut he can’t decipher. On one hand, he just wants to lean in and taste Harry’s lips, but on the other there’s a voice screaming at him, urging him to run fast in the other direction. It’s unsettling.

Louis doesn’t know how long they stare at each other like that - it feels like an eternity but can’t be more than a minute really - eyes roaming over each other’s face, but the moment is interrupted by the door closing brutally and Dennis coming back to the room, a suspicious look on his face as he takes a seat on the opposite sofa.

“I’m going to leave you two alone, yeah?” Harry stands abruptly with his camera still in his hands. He goes around the small table to give a quick hug to Dennis.

“Louis, come and find me when you guys are done, yeah?”

Louis nods but doesn’t utter a word, and Harry turns on heels with his blush still high on his cheeks.

“He’s great, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Harry.” Dennis provides. “He’s one of the good guys.”

“Yeah… I guess.” Louis clears his throat loudly. He doesn’t like the way Dennis is looking at him right now, a mix of disdain and annoyance in his glazed over eyes, but he forces a smile and flips through his notepad to an empty page, ready to shoot quick questions at him so they can get the interview done.

Louis hears more than he sees the lid of a bottle pop up, the scent of vodka filling his nostrils on the spot. Louis never liked to drink vodka, even when he was younger, and watching Dennis chug on the small bottle like it’s juice makes his stomach churn.

“You want?” The singer says as hands over the bottle to Louis.

Louis glances up and shakes his head no with a disgusted face, noticing a faint smear of white powder under the lad’s nose.

“You got a little something on ...” Louis traces his cupid bow with his finger, hoping Dennis can do the math.

Dennis harshly rubs his mouth and something flashes on his face, guilt maybe, but it doesn’t last.

“Yeah, sorry about that, dude. Have to keep the energy up and coming, right?”

“If you say so… Anyway. Let’s just get this over with.”

The interview is painful to conduct to say the least. Dennis gives half-assed answers at best, cryptic ones at worst, and Louis’ patience is put to the test on multiple occasions. If Louis decides to skip a couple of questions just to get out of the interview quicker than expected, nobody can blame him really. It can probably be considered self preservation at this point. At the rate he is rolling his eyes, they might get stuck in the back of his neck if he doesn’t leave soon.

They finally wrap up the interview and Louis gives the usual speech, thanking Dennis for taking the time to answer his questions, but it lacks sincerity and warmth, and Dennis must know, judging by the unconvinced look he gives Louis.

Louis grabs his notepad and recorder before making his goodbye and he leaves the room, not once looking back at the singer sprawled on the sofa with his bottle for only companion.

Once he’s alone in the corridor, Louis exhales deeply, exhaustion slowly taking over, and as he walks his way through the venue and towards the bar, he wonders how he’s going to write a review with the lack of enthusiasm he’s currently feeling. 

Louis finally makes it to the bar, where Harry and the members of the band - minus the singer - are leaning over the counter and chatting animatedly between them, drinking celebratory pints. They don’t seem to notice Louis approaching, so Louis clears his throat and places a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Hey, there.” he says with a forced smile. 

Harry peers at him with a soft look on his face, his eyelashes brushing on his cheeks in a delicate way. He smiles back with furrowed eyebrows, as if he can sense that Louis is not in the best of moods.

“I’m going to go home now, got a review to write.” Louis says as he drops his hand.

“I’m going to head out, too.” Harry says as he stands up. “Wanna share a cab?”

“I…” 

“You’re not staying with us, H?” Jen asks, surprised.

“I got a big day tomorrow, and honestly lads, I’ve already had too much to drink.” Harry chuckles.

“Lads.” Will scoffs. “Two months in good ol’ London, and you’re back to your British ways, I see.”

“Always going to be a Cheshire boy, my friend. There’s nothing to do about that.”

Louis waits patiently as Harry gives them all hugs and kisses, before they finally make it outside and into the cold London air, much to Louis’s displeasure. He readjusts his jacket against him as a shiver runs down his spine. He’s lighting up a cigarette with trembling hands when Harry nudges his foot against his, catching his attention.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Harry asks softly.

“They are definitely something.” Louis hums around his cigarette.

“Yeah, they are.” Harry scratches his shoes against the sidewalk awkwardly. “So you want to share a cab or?”

“Depends. Where do you live?”

“Near King’s Cross. You ?”

“Chelsea.”

“Oooh, fancy.” Harry snickers.

“Yep. Fancy and not at all near King’s Cross. I think sharing a cab might actually costs us more than going our separate ways.”

“That’s alright.” Harry shrugs. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Nah, I only come into the office when I have to. I’m going to work from home for the rest of the week I think.”

“Oh.” Harry’s disappointment is clear in his voice, and Louis gloats a bit on the inside. “Lucky you.”

There’s an black cab coming their way, and as the car slowly comes to a stop in front of them, Harry motions for Louis to take it.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch the next one.”

“Thanks, Harry.” Louis says earnestly.

Louis is about to get in the car when Harry grabs his arm gently and lets his hand slide all the way till it reaches his wrist. He circles his fingers around it and doesn’t budge until Louis stares up at him. For some reason, he seems to like doing that.

“For what it’s worth, I had a great time. I mean with the concert and all, but also with you.”

Harry’s eyes are a bit glassy and his cheeks are still rosy, and Louis preens under the attention. He may be set on not letting Harry believe he’s got a chance with him, but it still feels nice to hear the words.

Harry lets go of his hand and steps back, allowing Louis to hop up into the vehicle. Louis doesn’t turn around once seated, otherwise he would have seen Harry waiting for the car to disappear in the distance before turning on his heels and walking away.

  

_Is it my imagination?_

_Is it something that I’m taking?_

_All the smiles that I’m faking_

_Everything is great_

_Everything is fucking great_

 

In the morning after the concert, Louis is going over the article he wrote the night before and to say he is conflicted is an understatement. He always writes his articles right after the shows - one of the golden rules of journalism - because everything is still fresh and it makes the piece more accurate, the descriptions more realistic for the readers.

The word document he has in front of him is exactly that, but Louis knows it is far from flattering for the most part. He never questioned his work before, that’s the editor-in-chief’s job after all, and he knows he’s having doubts right now because of Harry. Louis hadn’t planned on dragging the Velvet Riot down, but he has never written a critique that wasn’t honest before, and he doesn’t want to start today just because Harry is friends with the band. It’s unprofessional and against Louis’ principles, and he just won’t do it.

Louis reads his piece over and over again, drinking too much tea and biting his nails in frustration until the skin cracks and he gets the iron taste of blood in his mouth. He rolls his eyes at himself and sticks his hands under his thighs, but he’s fidgeting so much his laptop rests precariously on his thighs.

After going over it one last time, he decides to keep it as he originally wrote it, and he sends it to the sub editors of HD before he has a change of heart.

All he needs to do now is warn Harry about the content of the article before it gets to be published in the next issue.

 

***

Louis spends the rest of the week working at home, and he tries the best he can to focus on his current projects rather than thinking about the Velvet Riot article. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t got a message from Connor about it, since his boss follows closely what is published in the magazine, and always has comments and suggestions, but he decides not to dwell on it.

More than Connor though, he wonders why Harry hasn’t reached for him. The magazine sub editors have obviously gone over the article already, with the final layout scheduled to be decided this week, and Harry is the one in charge of picking the pictures going with the article. Maybe he hated it. Maybe he’s resenting Louis for writing such a deprecative review. Maybe he’s waiting for Monday to see Louis in person to tell him his writing is shit. Who knows what’s going inside the man’s mind to be honest.

Instead of torturing himself with unanswered questions, Louis focuses back on the outline of the article he’s currently writing. He’ll know soon enough what Harry thought of his work anyway.

 

***

Louis is waiting in line at the HD cafeteria, craving tea and a blueberry muffin, when someone taps on his shoulder. He turns around and ends up face to face with Molly, who’s shaking under her thin denim jacket.

“Pretend you were waiting for me, I don’t want to wait in line.” She whispers conspiratorially.

Louis laughs at her antics and wraps an arm around her shoulder to share a bit of warmth.

“It’s October in London, Molly. Time to get a proper coat, I think.”

“Leave me alone, I don’t have your salary, you minx.”

Louis chuckles but stays close to her. It’s almost their turn when Molly glances up at him.

“I liked your article by the way. Was surprised to find it online but it was good.”

Louis must blanch on the spot, because Molly visibly cringes at Louis’ reaction.

“You read it online?” He asks.

“Hum, yeah. Got published last night, I thought you knew?” She says nervously.

“It’s not supposed to be online.” Louis grits his teeth.

He catches the whispered comment ‘ _why is it always me?_ ’ Molly makes but chooses not to answer.

They remain silent until it’s their turn and Louis opts for just his usual tea, his need for a muffin long forgotten. As they make their way to the elevator, he curses under his breath because he has a good idea why Molly got to read the article online, although he hopes he’s wrong.

They part ways quickly after they reach their floor, and Louis goes directly to the darkroom where he hopes to find Harry. Louis must be in luck, because Harry is there, placing lenses and camera on a newly installed shelf in the back of the darkroom.

His outfit is as colourful as it always is, and if Louis wasn’t on a mission, he’d have a thing or two to say about the black [shirt](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/170337451281/zapboobear-x) unnecessarily unbuttoned down to his sternum and covered with orange and blue flowers. Today’s not the day for a fashion debate though.

Harry still hasn’t noticed Louis’s presence and Louis takes the opportunity to scan the room for changes. Besides the half dozen new shelves covering the walls and filled with photography material, dividing walls have been added as well to create a small office in the back of the room. A shiny golden plate engraved with the words _Harry Styles, Head of Photography_ has been fixed on the newly-built office door.

 _Harry got what he wanted,_ Louis thinks. _He always does apparently._  

Louis places his tea on the counter table by the entrance of the room, clears his throat loudly to make Harry aware of his presence, and the photographer slowly turns around, his eyes locking with Louis instantly.

“Good morning, Louis.” Harry is smiling but he fidgets with his rings on the spot, a tell-tale sign of his nervousness Louis spotted on their very first encounter.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? What did you do?”

“I can explain, okay ? Let’s sit and-“

“No, Harry, let’s not. Why is my article online when it should be in the magazine’s next issue, huh?” Louis pauses and watches Harry squirm in front of him, which confirms what he already knows. “Are you going to tell me that you had nothing to do with that?”

Harry sighs and runs a hand on his face. He takes a step closer but Louis is having none of that; he takes a step back and stubbornly keeps the distance between him and Harry.

“I had to, okay? Your review was… unflattering.”

“So you went behind my back, and took it down so your precious friends wouldn’t get bad press?”

“I...Yeah, that’s exactly what I did.”

Louis grunts and closes his eyes in frustration.

“What are you putting in the magazine instead?”

Harry stays silent for a while, he’s looking everywhere but at Louis.

“My pictures of the night.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

”I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you, but you know what it’s like. I had to make the call and I couldn’t resign myself to let Connor publish your piece in the magazine.” Harry takes a tentative step and extends his hand to reach for Louis but draws back. He lets his hand fall back by his side and crosses his arms against his chest defensively. “Besides, you are not totally innocent in this.” Harry adds.

“Excuse me ?” Louis says, incredulous.

“Your article was harsh, Louis, they didn’t deserve that. You practically drag Dennis in the mud. Shouldn’t you be apologising for that?”

“I can’t believe you.” Louis sighs angrily. “I did my job, okay? And for the record, your friend is a twat, probably a drug addict and definitely an alcoholic. His performance was shit and he’s taking his own band down with him. So no, I’m not going to _apologise_.”

“Why are you being like this? It’s not a big deal!” Harry rolls his eyes. ”You get to be published in the magazine every month.”

“Do you know how much time a person spends reading an article online, Harry? Do you? It’s two minutes. Two fucking minutes. That’s why articles online are usually short, because the online readers have the attention span of toddlers. The review I wrote was specifically for the magazine! But yeah, you managed to avoid bad publicity for your friends. Congrats.”

“People will read the review because you’re the one who wrote it.” Harry says flatly.

“That’s not even the point!” Louis throws his hands in the air exasperatedly. “You went behind my back, and you convinced Connor to replace my piece with your pictures! How can you not see that’s what matters to me? How do expect us to work together now that I know you’re capable of pulling that kind of shit?”

Harry stands there speechless for a moment, his posture stiff, and he runs a hand across his face, his expression a mix of guilt and annoyance.

“I made a choice, Louis, and I’m not proud of it, but I admit I chose them over you. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Not okay, Harry, far from it actually. If I can’t trust you to respect my work, there’s no way I’m doing this again.”

Harry frowns deeply at that, and a sore expression takes over his features. “I…”

Louis doesn’t want to hear more of it, so he shakes his head in disbelief instead, tiredness replacing the anger he felt as he made his way to Harry’s brand new office.

“I really hope it was worth it.”

Louis turns on his heels and leaves the darkroom without his tea, his fists clenched at his sides and his throat itching for a cigarette. He should have known Harry Styles was too good to be true.

 

_And if you ask me 'round_

_And I should decline_

_Don't take it to heart_

_Your company is fine_

_But I get on better with mine_

 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Louuuu, please, hurry up for fuck’s sake! We’re gonna be late, and so help me God if I miss Rose’s performance, I’m going to kill you_.”

“Relax, I’m almost done. Just need to style my hair and I’ll be down.”

“ _So, basically, I’m stuck in the car for another hour. Maybe I should just go without you_.”

“Oi, don’t be rude, Malik.”

Louis hangs up before Zayn can reply, puts his phone is the back pocket of his jeans, and goes back to the hair situation at hand. They are going to the open mic session where Rose, Zayn’s student, is performing tonight and Louis couldn’t be more happy with the distraction.

It’s been a few days since he barged into the darkroom and confronted Harry about his article, but he’s still very much upset about it. He genuinely thought Harry respected his work more than this, and his decision to publish his pictures of the concert instead is still a pill he’s having a hard time swallowing.

But tonight, he’s determined to have a good time with his best friend, have a couple of pints and just forget that eventually he’ll have to go back to work and face Harry. Maybe he’ll even get lucky tonight, who knows.

He decided on one of his outfits Zayn baptised ‘Lou is up to no good’, which consists of a dark red shirt with long sleeves and a pair of [grey trousers](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/171412001071/gentlemansclub-gentlemansclub) that show his ankles and make his bum look even more perfect than usual. Louis is not vain, he’s just being realistic, okay?

When he is finally satisfied with the way his hair looks, he grabs his jacket, keys and wallet and gets out of the flat. He gets in Zayn’s car and presses a wet kiss on his best friend’s cheek as a way of greeting, and [Zayn](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/171859172441/keepingupwithzayn-zayn-for-penshoppe-ss18) shakes his head fondly but doesn’t make a comment on Louis’ obsession about his fringe.

The open mic session is taking place in a hipster bar in Shoreditch, and Louis can’t help but snort when he sees several men with buns and thin, fancy jackets drinking colourful cocktails with sunglasses perched on their heads.

 _It’s October in London, who does that if not a hipster?_ Louis ponders.

The bar in itself is nice though, with tables scattered all around the room, a small stage bathed in blue light, and string fairy lights suspended above the bar.

Zayn and Louis make their way to the bar to get something to drink, and as Louis orders, Zayn scans the small crowd in the hope to find his student before she gets to perform.

Rose is an anxious person by nature apparently, and Louis loves that Zayn cares enough to want to give her a pep talk before she has to get on stage. After a couple of minutes, Zayn finally spots Rose alone at a table and so he leaves Louis to go and talk to her.

Louis is nursing his beer when he hears a loud voice with a thick Irish accent shouting profanities, followed by a laugh he knows but can’t place immediately. He regrets turning around when he realises that it’s Harry, who is heading toward him, flanked by a brunette lad with shiny eyes and an oversize cream jumper.

“Hey Louis.” Harry says with a timid smile.

“Oh, you’re Louis? THE Louis?” The brunette asks before Louis gets to put a word in.

“Hum, yes, yes I am. And you are?”

“Niall, this one’s best mate.” Niall says as he points his thumb at Harry. “Heard a lot about you, man.”

“Niall…” Harry says with a warning voice.

“What? It’s true! _Niall I think Louis hates me and I_ \- Ouch! What was that for?”

Harry’s hand leaves Niall’s back and he crosses them behind his own back, swaying slightly back and forth, eyes round and lips pinched together in a grin, the perfect representation of innocence.

“Shut it.” Harry says with gritted teeth.

“Oh, I don’t mind. Please, continue, Niall. What else did he say?” Louis says with a mischievous smile, eyes set on Harry.

He’s not going to pass up an opportunity to make this awkward for Harry, and apparently Harry knows because he deflates on the spot, shooting a worried glance at his friend.

“I think I’ll stop right there mate, or this one is going to make me regret it one way or another.”

Louis and Niall laugh in unison, and Harry gives them both a scornful, unimpressed look.

“Anyway.” Louis sighs. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Niall is the one organising the evening actually.” Harry says proudly, as he places his arm around Niall’s shoulders. “He’s working for music labels as a talent hunter, so he gets to coordinate events like this from time to time.”

“That’s nice.” Louis says.

As much as Niall seems to be a cool guy, Louis is eager to get out of this, but he doesn’t know how. He takes a sip of his beer and looks around, hoping to spot Zayn and make him come back to him so he doesn’t have to deal with Harry’s presence by himself.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Niall wonders. He hails the bartender and places his and Harry’s order before returning his attention to Louis.

“My best friend is here somewhere.” Louis provides. “One of his students is performing tonight.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Do you guys want to sit with us? Since I’m the organiser, I got a pretty good table reserved for meself at the front.”

Niall wiggles his eyebrow and gives Louis a large smile, and Louis likes Niall already. He’s a ball of energy with a genuine smile and a loud laugh and Louis wants to protect him from the world. Which is weird since he doesn’t have alcohol in his system yet and he usually doesn’t get invested in people like this.

 _Irish trick,_ Louis thinks.

Louis is about to decline the offer when a familiar body approaches from behind him, and settles against his back, two hands gently holding onto his waist.

“Hey Lou.” Zayn whispers in his ear. “Who are your friends?”

“Hey, yourself. You’ve been gone for a while.”

Louis glances, and can’t help smirking when he sees Harry frowning at the pair, and Louis is in a mood to play with him so he brings both of Zayn’s hands against his stomach, and Zayn naturally intertwine their fingers, poking Louis’ belly button through his shirt. Louis gloats as he watches Harry follow the movement, frown still in place, but he decides against following through the misunderstanding.

“Lads, this is Zayn Malik, my best mate. Zee, this is Harry Styles, our new photographer and Niall, his best friend.”

Zayn lets go of Louis to stand by his side and gives a sided look to Louis that clearly says _so this is Harry?_ and Louis nods. He’s so grateful to have a best friend he can easily communicate with without words.

The great thing about Zayn is that he’s nothing if not a protective mama bear. He may have made fun of Louis for overreacting with the whole mess with Harry, but he still gives Harry an unimpressed, judgy once over and turns slightly to shake Niall’s hand first.

“It’s nice to meet you, although I still don’t know why you are here.” Zayn lets go of Niall’s hand and shakes Harry’s, and Louis can tell from the way Harry winces that Zayn may have put more strength than necessary into his grip. “Pure coincidence?” Zayn adds.

“I’m in charge of the whole thing, mate!” Niall says cheerfully. “Come on lads, let’s go sit before the show starts!”

Niall retrieves his and Harry’s drinks from the bar and doesn’t wait for the others to reply before he happily makes his way through the crowd to an empty booth next to the stage. Louis shrugs and decides to follow the Irish lad without further ado, knowing that Zayn and Harry will come as well.

Louis sits in a chair in front of Niall, and Zayn (thank god for him) shrugs off his jacket and places it on the seat next to Louis, forcing Harry to sit besides Niall on the booth.

“I’ll go get a drink, does anybody need something?” Zayn asks.

“I’ll come with you.” Louis says as he stands up abruptly.

Niall peers at him curiously, and Harry’s smile falters but Louis refuses to interpret.

“Can you order two burgers and chips, mate? Tell them it’s for Niall Horan, they don’t make me pay for food on nights like this. Put your order in with it, it’s on the house.”

Niall grins, and Louis shakes his head fondly, wondering how a grown man can look so much like a mischievous child. He doesn’t ask if Harry wants something, but he supposes the second burger is for him.

Zayn and Louis make their way to the bar and once Zayn has placed their order, he turns to Louis.

“So that’s Harry.” Zayn states.

“Yup.”

“Did you know he was going to be there tonight?” Zayn asks.

“Of course not. I’ve been avoiding him for a week, Zee.”

“You’re okay spending the night with them? I mean if it’s awkward, you can go, Lou, I don’t mind.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here for _you_. It’ll be fine.” Louis says. “Besides, I don't have to talk to him. I’m still upset, not gonna lie, but it is what is, right? I’m stuck with him anyway.”

When Louis and Zayn get back to the booth with the burgers and two baskets of chips, Louis realises that no, the burgers are only for Niall. Harry watches his best friend wolfing them down as if it personally offends him, but it doesn’t stop Niall from moaning in pleasure.

“This one,” Niall says as he pats Harry’s hand, “is trying to become a vegetarian. Can you please help me bring him back to reason? Because if I have to suffer through one more conversation about the benefits of quinoa and coconut water, I might strangle him in his sleep, I swear.”

“Animal cruelty is a thing, Niall.” Harry pouts. “Don’t be like that.”

Niall makes a face and takes a huge bite of his burger while looking Harry in the eye defiantly and Louis can’t help but chuckle at the pair they make.

“Well, as much as I’d like to help out Niall, Zayn is seriously considering it too, so I don’t think I’d be any help here.” Louis says with a grin. He pokes Zayn’s cheek affectionately, which in return earns him a slap on the thigh.

“Really?” Harry asks with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah… My girlfriend is trying to convert me, but it’s bloody hard. I could never resist a good burger.” Zayn eyes Niall’s food with envy, causing Niall to bring his plate closer to his chest as if Zayn was planning on stealing his food. 

“Tsk, Tsk, ridiculous.” Niall says between two bites. “Meat is life. There’s no way I’m giving up on it.”

They’re finishing their food and drinks when a woman comes up on the stage to announce the beginning of the open mic session, and Niall is buzzing on his seat.

He talks animatedly about the performers he chose for the night, and when Zayn says his protégée is Rose, Niall is ecstatic because she’s one of his favourites and Zayn beams at him.

After that, they all get into an animated conversation about Louis and Zayn’s jobs at the Music Institute and their students, and Louis seriously considers stealing Niall from Harry.

Thanks to Niall, who basically talks non-stop, the fact that Louis and Harry barely speak to each other goes unnoticed. Louis catches Harry looking at him several times but Louis fakes ignorance and keeps addressing Zayn and Niall, much to Harry’s annoyance. It shows in the way Harry keeps huffing and pouting every time he takes part in their conversation and Louis chooses not to bounce back on what he just said. 

 _That’s what you get for going behind my back_ , Louis thinks, amused.

The night is a big success, and Niall is determined to celebrate. He keeps going back and forth between the bar and their booth to get drinks, and soon enough, Louis is drunk. He gets nestled more and more comfortably against Zayn, who always welcomes the proximity with his best friend.

Zayn is running his hand through Louis’s hair and Louis purrs at the soft gesture. He’s always loved being cuddled and taken care of, although he rarely lets anyone do that anymore. Zayn is definitely the exception to the rule.

When Louis glances up at Harry for the first time in what feels like hours, the other man is already looking at him with soft eyes, and Louis frowns. He might look small and fragile right now, plastered against Zayn’s side while being petted, but he’s not. He’s manly and rugged, okay? And drunk, definitely drunk.

He doesn’t really understand why Harry is acting all fond and nice, when really he should at least be feeling awkward and apologetic after the last time they saw each other. Louis doesn’t want to dwell on what happened between them, but he doesn’t want Harry to think everything is fine either. Just because they’re drinking beers with their mutual best friends doesn’t mean Louis is ready to act like they are best buddies.

Apparently, Harry did not get the memo. He keeps looking at Louis the way he did that night at the concert, when he was all drunk and flirty, whispering flattery into Louis’s ear and taking his breath away with those beautiful green eyes.

“Louis! Louis! It’s Rose!”

Louis is brought back to reality by Zayn shaking his shoulder and pointing to the stage where a tiny blond girl is fiddling with the mic nervously.

“Hiiiii.” She says nervously. “I’m Rose Newton, thank you for letting me sing tonight.”

She blushes and clutches to the mic in support, and Zayn gently pushes Louis away, forcing him to sit straight on his chair before standing up to whistle and clap loudly. People in the crowd turn to look at him, but Zayn is unperturbed as he keeps cheering for his student. Rose waves at him and her blush gets even more obvious, but the lights dim out and she starts singing in the most complete silence.

Louis is in awe of her, because despite her young age, Rose’s voice is already incredible. She chose a Little Mix song called _‘Secret Love Song’_ to begin with, and Louis is sure Zayn has something to do with that because this is the perfect choice for her, she totally has the vocal capacity to perform such a hard song. Zayn has a large smile on his face as he sways on his spot, muttering the lyrics under his breath, and Louis is glad his best friend gets to witness how his teaching lessons have an impact on his student.

Rose performs two more songs, and her whole performance ends up being impeccable. The crowd erupts in cheers when she’s done, and she runs out of stage straight to Zayn’s open arms. Both of them head to the bar to have a chat after the other boys profusely congratulate her, and when Louis redirects his attention to their table, Niall is nowhere to be seen, leaving Harry and Louis by themselves. They remain silent for while, with Louis drawing stick figures on the table with his finger and Harry staring at him, until Harry finally breaks.

“That was something.” Harry says.

“Yeah, it was.”

Louis clears his throat and clutches his beer, and he stares at the amber liquid as if it could give him the answer to how he should interact with the man seated in front of him. It’s unsuccessful.

“So…” Harry says in his distinctive drawling voice.

“So?”

“You and Zayn seemed awfully cosy during the show.”

Louis glances up at that, watching Harry with curious eyes.

“He’s my best friend, we’re close. What is it to you?”

Harry shrugs and picks a cold chip from the almost empty basket. “Just curious.” He munches on it slowly, but his gaze on Louis is nothing but intense, as if he’s trying to figure him out. “You look good when you’re drunk. Soft.”

Louis shakes his head but smiles nonetheless, because how is supposed to respond to that? He’s pretty sure he’s blushing right now, if the satisfied expression on Harry’s face is anything to go by.

“Are you seeing anyone these days?” Harry asks suddenly.

“What?” Louis asks startled.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Harry repeats slowly.

“Not that it’s any of your business” Louis says with a pointed glare “but no, I am not.”

“Good.” Harry is smiling at him, and it rubs Louis up the wrong way.

“Again, what is it to you?”

“Just wanted to know, that’s all…”

That’s the moment Niall chooses to come back with shots, and Louis feels nauseous just looking at the tiny glasses filled with what probably is vodka.

“I’m not going to drink that, Horan.” Louis says before Niall can get the chance to place one in his hands.

“Oh come on Lou!” Niall pouts. “One shot!”

“Yeah, come on, Lou.” Harry is grinning at him as he grips one of the tiny glasses with a challenging look in his eyes.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

And no, Harry pouting doesn’t do a thing for Louis. Nope.

“Because only people I’m close to get to call me Lou.” Louis replies with a fake smile.

“But Niall just did!”

“Yeah, well I really like Niall so…”

“Ah ah! I like you too, Lou!”

They high five each other, ignoring Harry who gulps down his shot, sets the glass on the table, and crosses his arms against his chest with a fake hurt expression on his face.

 _He’s a child who likes to flirt_ , Louis thinks. He takes a sip of his beer as he listens to Niall explain how he came to organise these open mic sessions, when the woman from earlier gets back on stage to announce that people willing to sing can sign up at the bar, turning the night into a karaoke fest.

The occasion is so tempting he can’t resist, and without giving much notice to the two men talking in front of him, he goes to the bar to write down Zayn’s name. It takes forever with all the people pressing up at the bar trying to place an order, but he’s determined to hear his best friend sing, so he waits his turn patiently, stamping his foot rhythmically with the background music.

Louis knows Zayn is going to kill him. Probably. He doesn't like to perform in public, it makes him anxious but the crowd had been nothing but receptive all night, and Zayn’s voice is incredible.

Zayn has returned to their booth when Louis comes back. Niall is fiddling with his phone, seeming completely absorbed with whoever he’s texting, and Zayn is in a deep conversation with Harry about photography and art (and no, Louis is not jealous that the two seem to have lots in common) when he hears his name being called out, and Zayn immediately blanches. 

Louis curses himself for making rushed decisions when he’s drunk but the feeling doesn't last. Zayn forcefully elbows him in the ribs so maybe his best friend deserves it.

“This is brilliant!” Niall shouts with enthusiasm. “Didn't know you could actually sing, Zayn.”

“It's more than that, mate.” Louis scoffs. “He is bloody amazing.”

Zayn elbows him again, just as the woman on the stage calls out for him a second time. Louis decides to drag him on stage against his will, and he can tell he is going to pay for this later.

Right before they reach the stage, he shouts an order of two shots of whiskey to the bartender, even though he refused Niall’s shots earlier. He knows Zayn is going to need it, but he won’t drink if Louis doesn’t.

Zayn is on stage now, adjusting the mic in front of him and Louis comes back to the side of the stage with the shots and offers him one. 

“Look, Zaynie, I just want the world to know how amazing you are. Don't be mad at me.”

Louis bats his long eyelashes at him, although he knows this doesn't work anymore. When they were younger, it was a winning move but now Zayn is all grown up and he just doesn't fall for that.

“Fuck you, Lou.” Zayn hisses. He takes the shot, and Louis follows suit. “You know I don’t like to do that, you fucking know it!”

Right there and then, the lights dim out, and Zayn is forced to face his audience. Louis offers a contrite smile, takes the shot out of his hand and goes back to the booth where Niall and Harry are deep in conversation.

“Everything alright here?” he asks.

He puts the empty shots on the table and stares at the two inquisitively. Niall and Harry stop talking on the spot and turn to him, Niall with a big smile on his face and Harry schools his expression into something neutral, doesn’t let anything transpire. Whatever they were discussing will remain a mystery to Louis, and he’s not sure he likes it, it makes him feel like they were talking about him.

“Everything's fine, mate!” Niall says. “Have a seat! He’s about to start I think.”

Louis sits back down on his original spot, and focuses his attention on Zayn who seems to be on the verge of freaking out. Finally, he taps two fingers on the mic to catch the audience attention.

“Hi, guys. So I'm Zayn. I'm here because my best friend is a monster who likes to torture me.”

This elicits a few laughs from the audience, and Zayn chuckles nervously.

“Anyway, I didn't plan this so I'm going with one of my favourite songs. This is _Scars_ by James Bay.”

The musicians leave the stage behind Zayn except for the guitar player, who places an Ipad in front of him with what is most certainly the song’s partition.

The man nods three times, and then the first notes fill the air, soon after followed by Zayn’s voice.

Louis is sure, even from afar, that Zayn is shaking with nerves but his voice is firm, and it feels like honey to Louis' ears.

He is not the only one to be transfixed by Zayn's performance; the whole audience is captivated, silent, amazed even. Louis slowly turns around to watch Harry and Niall, and as expected, they both are gobsmacked.

He knows well how they feel; the first time he heard Zayn sing, he almost cried.

Zayn is an incredible singer, and when he starts singing, the atmosphere gets charged with something indescribable. His high notes are on point, sure, but there's so much emotion in his voice, it's impossible not to feel something. Louis wonders how one person can be so lucky as to be this whole, stunning package when people in general just blend in the mass. Life's unfair.

 

_We lived through scars this time_

_But I've made up my mind_

_No, we can't leave us behind anymore_

_We'll have to hurt for now_

_But next time, there's no doubt_

_'Cause I can't go without you anymore_

_No I can't go without you anymore_

 

Way too soon, the song ends and the bar erupts in cheers and applause. All eyes are on Zayn, but Zayn is watching Louis intently, with a smug smile and a light blush on his cheeks.

Louis stands up, claps as loud as he can and offers his biggest smile to his best friend. Zayn thanks his audience and goes down the stage, straight to their booth. He hugs Louis tight, and Louis returns the embrace with a proud smile etched on his face.

“You’re still on my shit list, Lou.” Zayn whispers in his ear.

“You were amazing, love.” Louis says in the crook of his best friend’s neck, and they finally break the embrace before sitting back in front of Niall and Harry.

“Mate, that was incredible! How come you're not like a worldwide superstar at this point?” Niall asks. He seems shook. Louis likes Niall even more.

“Yeah, you were amazing up there, man.” Harry says with a nod.

“See? Even Harry who doesn’t know anything about music thinks you were great!”

“Oh come on!” Harry says exasperatedly. “How long are you going to hold it against me?" 

The “it” doesn’t need to be defined, and something tells Louis Niall knows as much as Zayn does, if the way he looks at his best friend with an exasperated expression is anything to go by.

“As long as I see fit, Styles.” Louis replies with a smug smile.

They stay at the bar a little longer, but Louis stops drinking, and nobody goes on stage to perform after Zayn since they’re all probably afraid of going after him. Niall is the first to make his goodbye since he needs to talk to the bar owner and wrap up the material with the band. Harry offers to help and Niall gratefully accepts.

“You wanna go, Lou?” Zayn asks once the two are gone. “You can crash at my place if you want to.”

“Nah, I’m going to go home. Thanks, love.”

They exit the bar and they both light up a cigarette the second they pass the door. They are smoking in comfortable silence when Zayn gives Louis a nudge and points to the 24/7 grocery store at the corner of the street.

“I’m gonna buy some snacks and water, you need anything?”

Louis shakes his head no. “Go ahead, I’ll hail us a cab.”

Zayn nods and trots down the streets, and Louis watches him disappear into the tiny store. He’s crushing his cigarette under his boot when someone lightly squeezes his shoulder. When Louis turns around, Harry is standing in front of him, sporting a small grin with his hands behind his back.

“What are you doing out here?” Louis asks. 

“Was hoping you’d still be here.”

“Why?” Louis tilts his head to the side, his attention solely focused on Harry.

“You were right, you know.” Harry drawls out.

“About what?”

“About me burying your article.” Harry sighs. “I shouldn’t have done it, it was unprofessional and I’m sorry.”

Louis shrugs and lights up another cigarette, all the while keeping his attention on the photographer. He still doesn’t understand why Harry is so persistent but he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t like him when really, he does think about him more than he should these days. Louis is going soft, apparently. He blames the alcohol. 

“It is what it is, Styles, let’s get over it. But I’m warning you, next time you try to screw me over, I won’t be this nice.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Harry pauses and scratches his boot against the pavement. “So, friends?” Harry says as he extends his hand.

“Not sure that’s exactly where we stand right now.” Louis shrugs nonchalantly. “But I guess we can try to be.” 

He takes Harry’s hand in his and squeezes lightly, but it’s Harry who takes a step closer, bringing their bodies closer, only a few inches separating their chests from touching. 

“I’ll find a way to make you like me.” Harry whispers seductively. His other hand squeezes Louis’ bicep slightly, and Louis curses himself as he contracts the muscle unconsciously. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louis frowns, his heart beating just a little faster than it did a second ago.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Harry smirks at him unabashedly. “Night, Lou.” 

Harry walks back toward the bar, leaving Louis on the sidewalk, and Louis feels the urge to get the last word.

“I told you not to call me that!” Louis shouts.

Harry turns around and keeps walking backwards, shoulders hunched, palms up and an enigmatic smile, the neon lights of the streets lamps catching on the silver rose ring on his hand.

“Yeah, but I feel like you love it, so I’m not gonna stop.” Harry grins.

  

_He'll dance in the dark_

_A real work of art_

_His eyes could burn down the room_

_So get out while you can_

_You don't understand_

_He doesn't know how to lose_

 

The next morning, Louis is hungover and doesn’t want to move a muscle all day. He doesn’t even have it in him to hop up in a cab and go see Zayn at the studio so they can laze around all afternoon together, which is a pretty good indicator of his motivation.

Louis prepares himself a huge breakfast meant to cure his hangover while he listens to the brand new album of Halsey, a promising pop star he’s supposed to interview in a week. Louis can’t wait to meet her, he’s a big fan of her music and he plans on working hard on the piece about her.

He drags his body to his living room, and plops down on his couch after shutting down his stereo and turning the TV on. He’s going through Netflix in search of something worth watching when his phone rings; the id caller is unknown, and after a brief pause, he decides to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Lou!”

“Harold.” Louis says flatly.

“That’s terrible, don’t call me that.”

“Then stop calling me Lou.”

“Not happening.” Harry replies with a chirp in his voice. “Anyway, I’m calling about your next piece about Halsey. You’ll be thrilled to know that I’m covering it with you! Yay!”

“How did you even get my number?”

“Connor gave it to me. Did you hear what I just said ?”

“Yeah, I did although I’m sorry to disappoint, but I already booked one of the photographers for that, thank you very much.”

“I know you did, but plans changed so-”

“How come?” Louis cut in.

“I may or may not asked Connor to put me on this assignment instead.”

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs, because why, WHY would Harry do that.

“Listen,” Harry says, all serious now, “I know you don’t like… trust me after the whole… thing with Velvet Riot, but this is our chance to start again. I promise to be professional and charming. Please.” 

Louis stays silent for a moment, pondering whether or not to roast Harry for making decisions without consulting him again, but decides to give up and deal with it now that Connor’s agreed to it.

“Louis, you still here?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Alright, Styles. Halsey will be in town for two days. There’s an interview scheduled at the Goring hotel, followed by a concert that night, and we have to squeeze a photoshoot before rehearsal, so you better bring your best game on this because this interview means a lot to me.” 

“Do you have a precise schedule you can forward to me? So I can get a better idea of how we’re doing this?” Harry asks.

“Yes, of course, I’ll email it to you. But I’m telling you now, and I won’t say it again, we’re doing this my way. And we’re taking care of the final editing together.”

“YES, yes, no problem.”

“Good.” Louis exhales deep and looks down at his breakfast getting cold. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have four episodes of ‘Chef’s table’ to watch and a proper English breakfast to chow down.”

“Can I join you? I could use a good fry up after last night.”

“Absolutely not. Goodbye, Styles.”

The last thing Louis hears before he hangs up is Harry’s hearty laughter dying on the other end of the line.

 

***

 

If Louis didn’t know what Harry meant by ‘I’ll find a way to make you like me’, the week following the open mic night answers that. Louis receives a huge bouquet of blue irises with a note that says “Iris you a good day, Lou! H.” two days after the night in Shoreditch, which is a lovely surprise since no one has ever sent Louis flowers. The pun is terrible, but the attention is sweet so Louis forgives the cheesiness.

The day he comes back to work, he finds a cup of steaming tea and a blueberry muffin on his desk, also with a note that says ‘apparently that’s your favourite’. It happens twice again that week and Louis doesn’t even know how Harry knew he was going to be at the office on these days, but he’d lie if he said the gesture doesn’t warm his heart.

He also gets a framed picture of a Script concert Harry apparently covered back in LA. How Harry knew that Louis was a fan is a big mystery too, but he doesn’t care. He hangs the picture in his office and often glances up at it with a fond smile.

Harry seems determined to be back in Louis’ good graces and Louis, well, he loves being showered with gifts so he’s not complaining. They don’t see each other that week, the gifts appearing magically on his desk are the only clue Louis has regarding Harry’s whereabouts. They text more often that not, since Louis is not a savage and he always makes a point of thanking Harry for the presents. 

Slowly but surely, Louis can’t find it in him to hold a grudge against Harry anymore, and the night before the interview with Halsey, he realises that he’s actually excited to see and thank him in person.

“Admit it, Lou.” Zayn says. They’re at Zayn’s flat, watching a footie game and eating pizza, slumped on the sofa. “You like him, you like the attention. You’re an attention whore!”

“Shut up, I’m not! But I guess it’s nice, you know? Nobody’s ever worked so hard to make me like them. It’s just… Nice.”

“He wants to get into your pants, I hope you know that, right?”

“I’m not an idiot, Zee. Nobody’s that nice unless they want something. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall for it.”

Zayn huffs around his cigarette, and throws an unimpressed look at him.

“We’ll see about that.” Zayn says.

 

***

 

The next morning, Louis is sweating like a pig when he arrives at T[he](https://www.google.fr/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Fcontent%2Fdam%2FTravel%2FleadAssets%2F25%2F31%2FGoring_Hotel_2531549a.jpg%3Fimwidth%3D450&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Ftravel%2Fdestinations%2Feurope%2Funited-kingdom%2Fengland%2Flondon%2Farticles%2Ficon-360-virtual-video-tour-the-goring-hotel%2F&docid=rXTIOC_Ettz9VM&tbnid=Mi5bvY9Tu7RcdM%3A&vet=10ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA..i&w=480&h=300&safe=active&bih=643&biw=1190&q=the%20goring%20hotel%20london&ved=0ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA&iact=mrc&uact=8#h=300&imgdii=bTRIQxY_sPCCuM:&vet=10ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA..i&w=480)[ Goring hotel](https://www.google.fr/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Fcontent%2Fdam%2FTravel%2FleadAssets%2F25%2F31%2FGoring_Hotel_2531549a.jpg%3Fimwidth%3D450&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Ftravel%2Fdestinations%2Feurope%2Funited-kingdom%2Fengland%2Flondon%2Farticles%2Ficon-360-virtual-video-tour-the-goring-hotel%2F&docid=rXTIOC_Ettz9VM&tbnid=Mi5bvY9Tu7RcdM%3A&vet=10ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA..i&w=480&h=300&safe=active&bih=643&biw=1190&q=the%20goring%20hotel%20london&ved=0ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA&iact=mrc&uact=8#h=300&imgdii=bTRIQxY_sPCCuM:&vet=10ahUKEwi6qvurm9bZAhXCI1AKHUeAA6QQMwgyKAAwAA..i&w=480) for his interview with Halsey. Spending the previous night at Zayn’s was definitely a bad idea; he smoked too much, went home too late and he didn’t hear his alarm this morning. He woke up at the time he was supposed to leave his flat, and tripped over his own two feet too many times as his foggy mind desperately tried to catch up with reality. He’s glad he had the common sense to prepare a bag with his notepad filled with notes for the interview along with his recorder the day before because in the state he is in, he would have probably forgotten to take them with him. He doesn’t even have time to have a cuppa or to style his hair. As much as he likes the headband, he’s getting sick of wearing them.

So to put it simply, Louis arrives at the hotel in the worst mood ever.

He’s entering the lobby when his phone chimes. It’s Harry, telling him that he’s waiting for him at the hotel restaurant, and that apparently Halsey and her team hasn’t arrived yet. Louis exhales loudly in relief, wipes the beads of sweat sliding down his temples with his sleeves, and goes to the [dining room](https://www.google.fr/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia-cdn.tripadvisor.com%2Fmedia%2Fphoto-s%2F08%2F0f%2F11%2F6b%2Fthe-goring-dining-room.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tripadvisor.fr%2FRestaurant_Review-g186338-d1903212-Reviews-The_Goring_Dining_Room-London_England.html&docid=ONtd7chtwWBtOM&tbnid=fVPR1lyfzEw9VM%3A&vet=10ahUKEwj29ZXzmtbZAhXRalAKHbXsAJcQMwgyKAEwAQ..i&w=550&h=366&safe=active&bih=643&biw=1190&q=the%20goring%20hotel%20london&ved=0ahUKEwj29ZXzmtbZAhXRalAKHbXsAJcQMwgyKAEwAQ&iact=mrc&uact=8#h=366&imgdii=fVPR1lyfzEw9VM:&vet=10ahUKEwj29ZXzmtbZAhXRalAKHbXsAJcQMwgyKAEwAQ..i&w=550) hoping that he’ll get to have a cup of tea before Halsey arrives.

He’s feeling a bit undressed in this luxurious decor, with the elegant staff running around and dressing up the tables, but it’s not like he had time to carefully choose an outfit with the morning he had. The comfy sweater and the skinny jeans he put on were the first things he grabbed from the pile of clothes lying around his bedroom. He didn’t bother taking a jacket with him, the weather being particularly nice despite October coming to its end.

Louis finds Harry sitting at a table with a full breakfast in front of him and Louis’ mouth waters at the sight of pancakes and scrambled eggs. Harry smiles wildly at Louis and waves at him and, no, Louis doesn’t let out an appreciative sound at the sight of him. Harry is wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned as usual, the butterfly tattoo peeking through, and a grey blazer that makes him look very chic.

“Hey Lou!”

Louis rolls his eyes at the nickname but doesn’t comment on it, and plops down on the chair placed in front of Harry. He reaches for the pot of tea and lifts up the lid to smell its content. Green tea, ugh.

“How can you drink that, Harold? It smells like feet and tastes like grass.” Louis says with a disgusted face.

“Someone is in a mood today.” Harry replies and Louis stares at him with an unimpressed look on his face. “It’s good for you, you should try it.”

“No, thanks. I’m gonna order something drinkable.”

As if on cue, one of the waiters approaches their table and Louis orders tea. He’s still stressed out from his run to the hotel, but he finds comfort in knowing he hasn’t made Halsey’s team wait for him. He quickly checks his email box and finds that Halsey’s manager has sent a message apologising for being late, but apparently their plane got delayed and they just landed at Heathrow. Louis sighs in relief, it means he has a good hour to enjoy a well-deserved breakfast. When he peeks at Harry, he is diving into a fruit salad with too much enthusiasm.

“You seem very perky this morning, Styles.”

Harry smiles and stabs his fork into a strawberry. He bites into it, and some juice drizzles on his chin and yes, Louis is staring. Harry gulps down the piece of fruit and smiles knowingly at Louis.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” He says. “I really like Halsey’s music, can’t wait to meet her.”

“Yeah, she’s great, I love her too.”

“What else do you like?”

The waiter comes back with tea and pours Louis a cup before slipping away with a curt nod.

“Are we playing twenty questions now?” Louis asks with his face half hidden behind his cup. 

“Oh, can we ?” Harry replies enthusiastically.

“What are you, twelve?” Louis groans but decides to indulge the other man nonetheless. He’s not really comfortable talking about himself, but he does want to know more about Harry. “You start.”

“Okaaay. Where are you from?”

“Doncaster.”

“Really? I’m from Cheshire!” Harry exclaims as if that’s an amazing coincidence.

“That’s not how this game works, Harold but go on.”

“Siblings?”

“A younger sister, Charlotte. She lives in New York.”

Harry hums and pinches his lower lip between two fingers, something Louis picks up as another one of Harry’s tics.

“Favourite colour?”

“Green.” Louis doesn’t hesitate and his heart suddenly rabbits in his chest because isn’t he being too obvious? A month ago he would have probably said red. But Harry’s smile is gentle so Louis decides not to dwell on it.

“My turn now, Styles. Why did you come back in England?”

Harry perks up at the question. “My sister, Gemma is pregnant. I’m going to be an uncle.”

“Wow, that’s really great, Congrats.”

“Thanks, I’m so excited, you have no idea. I love babies.” Harry grins widely. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Louis says laughing. “Question two, did you always want to be a photographer?”

“As long as I can remember, yeah. Gemma went to boarding school but she hated it so my Mum decided against it for me, and I ended up following her around the world, helping her with the photoshoots and stuff. ”

“You mean you’ve never went to school?”

“Nope, not until I went to college. It was all private tutors and home lessons for me. I loved it though.” Harry says earnestly. 

“I bet. I wish I could have done that.”

Louis’s phone rings at that with an incoming call from Halsey’s manager telling Louis which suite they’re in so they can get settled in until they arrive. Louis and Harry decide to finish their breakfast while they continue asking each other questions before they head up to Halsey's room. 

Louis tries to remember everything Harry tells him, but it’s a lot. If Harry speaks at an excruciatingly slow pace most of the time, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk a lot. He tells Louis all about his Mum, his sister, how he decided to travel the world after college all the while working as a contributing photographer for magazines and fashion shows, until HD made him a proposition he couldn’t refuse.

“And so last Spring, when Gem told me she was pregnant, it felt like I had to come back, you know? My mom is always traveling and Gem works a lot so it’s not like me not being in London was an issue. But now, I need to be part of this kid’s life, I don’t want to be the uncle living far away, sending presents for Christmas and birthdays. It could never be enough.” 

“I get it. You want to be there for your sister. Sometimes I wish Lottie hadn’t moved to New York. It’s a bit lonely sometimes without her.”

“You guys are close?” Harry asks, genuinely interested. 

“Yeah, we are. It’s just the two of us, you know.”

Harry hums, but doesn’t push forward and Louis appreciates it.

“What about you?” He says instead. “Did you always want to be a journalist?”

“Not really. I’ve always loved writing, whether it was songs, poetry, even short stories when I was in uni but what I really wanted was to make music. When I realised it wasn’t going to happen, writing about it turned out to be the best option, I guess.”

“You’re so good at it, Lou. Your reviews, I mean. They’re incredible.”

“Is that how you knew about the Script?”

“Yeah.” Harry says, blushing. “I think I’ve probably read everything you wrote by now.”

Louis scratches his stubble unconsciously, cringing internally at Harry’s confession. His first articles are far from great in his opinion, and the Script critique was one of his first major pieces. Louis finds it pompous and a bit too much now, but at least Harry doesn’t mock him for using the words ‘genuinely’ at least five times in it, so there’s that.

“Thanks by the way, for the picture and everything else.” Louis says softly. “How did you know I was going to be there? I mean, with the tea and the muffins.”

“I didn’t.” Harry bites his lip, then. “I just… Put them on your desk and checked if they were gone when I got back.”

 _Fuck, that’s cute,_ Louis thinks.

“Well, thanks anyway. You don’t have to keep doing that though. You’re officially absolved, Styles.”

Harry beams at that, and as they finish their breakfast in a comfortable silence, Louis wonders how anyone could not like Harry.

Besides the good looks and the flirty attitude, Harry is a giant goofball, really. He’s witty and smart and so, so endearing. Nothing feels forced with Harry, conversation flows easily between them and Louis can’t remember a time he was genuinely so interested in someone else's opinion about trivial things like a favourite color or a stupid, life-consuming hobby. Yet, here he is, enraptured in Harry and everything he says. 

When they’re finally done with their food, they head to the reception desk to pick up the keys to the room and the receptionist directs them to a tiny lift reserved for the grand suite floor. They dive into the elevator at the same time and when they awkwardly collide against each other, Louis instinctively grabs for Harry and squeezes, his hand having landed on the other man’s hip.

“Sorry.” Louis says as he takes a step back in the lift. The gap between their bodies is still tiny and Louis bites his lip as his eyes lock with Harry’s, who’s looking at him longingly.

“I don’t mind, Lou.”

They’re staring at each other intensely, and Louis finds it hard to look away from Harry’s face.

Harry licks his lips then, and as his eyes scan Louis’ face, heat coils in his belly.

The tension in the constricted space is palpable and Louis thinks to himself, that maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give in and close the gap, have a taste at Harry’s lips. They look so pink and shiny and inviting, and Louis wants to know what they feel like under his own.

 _So pretty_ , Louis thinks.

Louis shies away as the thought hits him, and he lets his eyes flit to the side before Harry gets to feel how agitated he makes Louis feel. He gulps inaudibly, but he doesn’t miss the way Harry keeps close, as if he needs it.

The doors open then, and Louis rushes out of the lift straight to the suite. He unlocks the door and walks through the room, putting a well-needed distance between him and Harry. It only takes him a minute to recover and bring back the professional facade.

Harry is only a few feet behind and when he enters the room, he whistles, impressed by the majestic room they get to interview Halsey in. There’s a mini salon next to the gigantic bedroom and the hotel staff has decorated it with half a dozen bouquets of pink peonies, white roses and red tulips. Louis can’t help but smile when he catches Harry sniffing the bouquets and admiring them in awe. Louis can totally picture a younger version of Harry with a flower crown, dancing to “I wish I was a punk rocker” in the middle of his living room, belting out the lyrics.

Louis settles on the sofa in the mini salon and reads his notes while Harry takes out his camera and tripod out of a bag Louis didn’t even notice he was carrying. He was probably too absorbed in staring at Harry’s body, and he bites his lip at the thought.

They’re going over last minutes details when a dozen people rush inside the room and start fussing around with clothes and vanity cases filled with cosmetics and hair products. The first couple of minutes are a blur for Louis, he’s not used to interviewing celebrities in that kind of setting, but eventually Halsey enters the room, smiles and heads straight for him.

“Hiiiii, you must be Louis Tomlinson! I’m Halsey but you can call me Ash.”

Halsey is glowing despite having just landed in England, and her short blond hair is neatly arranged on top of her head. She’s wearing leggings with a sport bra and a fur coat that ends at her booted feet and Louis finds the outfit a bit odd but doesn’t comment on it. He just hopes it’s not real fur, otherwise Harry is going to flip.

Louis smiles widely at her and extends his hand for her to shake but the pop star goes for a hug instead. Louis is surprised at first but hugs her back nonetheless. He can clearly discern Harry’s quiet laugh in the background.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ash, I’m a big fan.” Louis says.

“I’m sure you say that to all the people you interview though.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t.” Harry comes up beside Louis and hugs Halsey as if they’ve known each other all their lives. “I’m Harry, big fan too! I’ll be the one taking care of the photoshoot. Gonna make you look amazing, promise.” He adds, the dimples popping out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” Halsey’s attention gets caught when her name is being called out and she twirls on her spot to see an exasperated staff member gesturing at her to come to the makeshift makeup station they set.

“Time to do makeup and stuff, I guess. My manager will take over now, I’ll see you in a bit.”

As if on cue, a man that introduces himself as Nicholas approaches them and briefs them. Louis is familiar with the procedure; all the celebrities have a watchdog / manager who makes sure that the journalists don’t ask embarrassing questions to their protégée. It turns out that when it comes to Halsey, there’s not much to say since the singer has no problem talking about private matters. Halsey never hid the fact that she was bisexual and that she’s currently in a relationship with the Californian rapper G-Eazy, nor that she was diagnosed bipolar when she was a teenager. Louis has no intention to ask too intimate questions but he appreciates not being muzzled by her PR.

Soon after, Halsey comes back to the room with her stylist on her trail, and the woman arranges her hair one last time before the interview starts. She’s sitting on the sofa in front of Louis and Harry has set his camera on a tripod by his side. Louis places his recorder on the table and turns it on. 

“So Halsey, how do you feel about your new tour?”

“I’m super excited! My first album was a hit in the United States but didn’t quite reach Europe and so I’m really happy to have multiple tour dates in Europe this time. I feel like it’s going to be great.”

“London is your first date in Europe, but I read that you have quite the fanbase in France as well, which is your next date, right?”

“Yes, I can’t wait to perform in Paris, the fans are sick over there! Besides it’s a lovely city, I love it, very romantic. I actually performed in Paris two years ago and a member of my team proposed during one the concerts, it was so sweet. I think that’s why I love that city so much.” 

“That’s so nice!” Harry says as Louis is ready to ask another question. “How did he do it?” 

“Harold.” Louis warns. “Could you maybe let me lead this interview?”

Halsey laughs at the two of them, and Harry pouts but breaks into a grin as he shuts down Louis with a flick of his wrist. “Come on, tell us Ash.”

“Well, it was simple, really. They were both part of my team and between two songs, I made him come up on stage, called for his girlfriend and voila! He bent on one knee, she said yes, people cried, me included and it was magical.”

Louis groans “Yeah, it is if you like that kind of thing to be done in public I guess.”

“You’re such a spoilsport, Lou. The guy wanted to do something nice for his girl, it’s sweet!”

“Do you consider yourself a romantic then?” Louis asks as he turns his attention back to Halsey. 

“Yeah, I am, and I think it shows in my songs actually.” She pauses and grins at the two, and she’s looking at Harry when she asks “Are you? A romantic I mean.”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry shrugs. “Probably not in the traditional way but I think I am.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louis demands. He can’t help it, he’s curious about all things Harry now.

“I think… that I’d love a grand gesture with roses, chocolate and champagne, you know? But if you really want to do something romantic, you don't do it based on what you like, but on what your partner likes. That's what makes it romantic. At the end of the day, it is more about what you’d be ready to do for that person rather than anything else.”

“So, like if your partner loves Twilight or something you’d bite them and put glitter on your bum?” Louis inquires, making Halsey giggle at the question. 

“If that’s what they’re into, I guess.”

Louis shakes his head at him and laughs quietly, but he quickly aims the interview towards more useful questions. He has an article to write, he’s not here to hear Harry rant about what he would do for his lover. The fact that Harry must be a caring, romantic partner is not relevant right now, but Louis stores this new information about him in a corner of his mind. 

The rest of the interview goes smoothly despite Harry’s interference now and then. Louis scolds him every single time, but Harry just looks at him with a fond expression and carries on with his own questions. Louis is not going to admit it, but some of them are on point and he scribbles down what’s worthy of being kept. Halsey’s answers are surprisingly mature for a girl her age, she’s fun and lovely, and Louis really enjoys their time together.

They finally wrap up the interview by noon, and Halsey is scheduled to give another interview after lunch. Just before they part ways, she hugs Louis once again and whispers something into Louis’ ear that makes him go wide-eyed.

“How long have you two been together?”

“What? We’re not!” He says as he takes a step backward. “We work together, that’s all.”

Halsey looks at him surprised and then frowns at Louis’ incredulous expression. “Really? but you guys banter like an old married couple and you look at each other like… I don’t know.” 

“I can assure you that we’re not together. Not gonna happen.”

“Eh, never say never, Louis. Life is full of surprises.” She cheekily says. “Besides, he’s kinda like… really hot, isn’t he?”

“Who’s hot?” Harry says as he comes back from the other room with his bag secured on his arm.

“My boyfriend.” Halsey replies instantly. “I like to brag.” She hugs Harry goodbye and as soon as Harry has his back turned to her, she winks at Louis.

Before they have to go, both of them get to her manager to decide on a meeting hour for the photoshoot taking place later in the day. 

“Ideally, you guys should come back by 3 so we can do the photoshoot and have rehearsal starting by 4.30.” Nicolas recites, his eyes focused on the digital table in his hand. “Is that alright with you guys?” 

“Yeah, perfect. We’ll meet you in the lobby at 3.” Louis says.

Getting out of the hotel turns out to be a real hassle with all the fans gathered in the lobby hoping to get a glimpse at the pop star but they finally make it through thanks to one of the security members of Halsey’s team. Louis lights up a cigarette as soon as they’re in the open, and his stomach makes an audible grumble that gets a chuckle out of Harry.

“Lunch then?”

“Yes, please.” Louis sighs in relief.

“You don’t mind if Niall joins us right? Haven’t seen him since the open mic night and apparently he’s got news he wants to share.”

“Lead the way, Harold.” 

Harry takes Louis’s comment quite literally, as he settles his hand in the small of Louis’s back, adjusting his pace with Louis’s own, and his hand stays there until they reach the pub. It’s a short walk though and Louis misses the touch once it’s gone.

The pub is nearly empty, except for a couple of patrons rewriting history at the bar, with 70s rock classic quietly playing in the background. Louis likes it instantly.

[Niall](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172561430091/dailyniall-mg-in-sydney-91017) is already there when they enter the pub, with a plate of onion rings in front of him. He’s chowing down two rings when he spots Harry and Louis, and waves them over with a closed-lip smile, his cheeks full and a bit of sauce on his chin.

“I see you couldn’t wait for us.” Harry says as he hugs his best friend.

“Please.” Niall chirps, his greasy hands not touching Harry but his chin nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “This is the appetizer. Hey, Louuu.”

Niall shoves Harry to the side and gives a warming hug to Louis, ignoring the indignant sound Harry makes as he’s being pushed aside. It’s not the first time he thinks about it, but Louis really wants to steal Niall from Harry.

“How are you doing, lad?”

“I’m doing great! You guys?”

“Good. We just interviewed Halsey, it was great.” Louis says.

A waiter comes to the table and they quickly order lunch, burgers for Louis and Niall, a green bean salad for Harry, and Louis scrunches his nose at him.

“What?” Harry says. “My body is sobbing for vegetables right now.”

“Okay, let’s pretend you never said that.” Louis rolls his eyes before he redirects his attention to Niall. “Sooo, What’s the big news, Neil?”

“Well, lads, Zayn and I are organising the next open mic session with a few of his students, and it’s meant to be glorious.”

“Where was I when this happened?” Louis asks. “Did you know about this, Harold?” Harry shakes his head no as he waits for his best friend to explain further.

“I suggested it the other night and we just exchanged numbers. I mean, he’s got talent in his class, and I’m a talent hunter so it was a no brainer really.” 

“He didn’t say a thing.” Louis says, pouting. 

“I don’t know, man. Must have slipped his mind.” Niall cleans his greasy fingers with a napkin before adding “Went to his studio meself the other day. The place is sick, man!”

“Wow. Seems like our best friends are rallying, Harold.”

“Yeah, seems like it.” Harry laughs.

“So what else are you scheming with my best friend, Horan?”

“Nothing, I swear. Although, I meant to ask if there’s anyone in your classes you think would be interested in participating? The more the merrier!” 

“I don’t know...My students are not all singers, you know. Most of them just want to write music and those who do sing are in Zayn’s class too so you must know about them already.”

“I’d love to attend one of your classes, Lou. I mean, Professor Tomlinson.” Harry says with a dreamy look.

“You wish, Styles.” Louis replies with a smile, his eyes crinkling.

“So, I see you two have it figured it out by now?” Niall points out. “I’m glad, I like him.” He adds looking at Harry.

“Yeah, me too.” Harry is smiling at Louis as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Cut it, Styles.” Louis chortles. “Apparently, we’re acting like an old married couple, and I’m not ready to tie the knot so knock it off.” 

At that, Niall emits a snorts. “Harry? Married? Please, never gonna happen.”

“Eeeh, don’t say that.” Harry digs a finger into his best friend’s ribs, making him squirm on the spot.

“Oh come on, H. For years, you’ve been telling me that you’re not the kind to settle down. There’s no shame in wanting to keep your freedom.”

“I do want to settle down! But not with just anybody, I have standards.” Harry huffs indignantly.

“What about you, Lou? Have you found the man of your dreams yet?”

Louis doesn’t pick up on the fact that Niall said ‘man’ and not person, he huffs instead. “No, I haven’t. Not sure such things as soulmates exist though.”

“You see, Niall” Harry says, “This man here has no romantic bone in his body. Halsey told us that a couple got engaged at one of her performances and he laughed, can you believe?”

“It’s so cliché!” Louis retorts bitterly. “Who does that anyway?”

“People who believe in love, Lou.” Harry states flatly.

“Yeah, well good for them. I’ll find my happy ending in something else, thank you very much.”

Something flashes across Harry’s face, disappointment maybe, but it goes as fast as it came and Louis chooses not to look into it. Eventually, the waiter comes back with their orders and they eat their lunch in a comfortable atmosphere, Louis throwing shades at Harry from time to time, and Niall laughing at Harry’s pouty face when Louis’s comments are particularly snarky. 

It’s just that... Louis likes to provoke him, whether it draws a honky laugh or a dejected face, he likes to know he has some kind of power over Harry, that he’s not the only one affected when they spend time together. Niall seems to particularly enjoy their banter, although Louis can’t explain the funny looks he gives them from time to time, like he knows something Louis doesn’t.

Time quickly flies by and in a blink of an eye, it’s time for Harry and Louis to go back to the hotel for the photoshoot. They say goodbye to Niall once they’re outside the pub and part ways, the both of them going in the opposite direction.

Rain is pouring down, the sky a dark shade of grey with thick clouds stretching above their heads, and Louis is thankful they chose to have lunch not far away from the hotel. He curses himself for leaving his jacket at home, as the raindrops slowly filter through his sweater, making him shiver in discomfort. Within seconds, Harry is soaked as well, his blazer turning a shade darker, but he’s laughing hard as they hurry through the streets and Louis can’t help but join him.

Harry looks so young like this, his hair plastered to his face and a permanent grin stretched on his face, Louis melts a little bit at the sight of him. He doesn’t even protest when Harry takes his hand and makes a run for it when the rain starts to pour harder.

 

When they arrive at the hotel, one of Halsey’s stylists comes to fetch them in the lobby and offers to lend them shirts while the laundry service of the hotel gets their clothes dry. They both gratefully accept and they follow her to one of the rooms where the shooting is taking place. Halsey is already there being pampered by an armada of stylists and she waves at them with a smile.

This is the part of the day where Louis has nothing to do except watch Harry work his magic, so he settles comfortably in the corner of the room, watching the team get busy and fussing around to make it all perfect for the photoshoot.

Harry is getting his material ready for the shoot when the stylist form earlier comes back with towels and two oversized white tee shirts for them to change into. Louis almost has a heart attack when Harry takes off his shirt right in the middle of the room without a care in the world. He knows he’s not the only one staring, and the thought makes him feel a bit better but he suspects Harry to be this willing to get shirtless to get his attention specifically.

Obviously, Louis knew that Harry has tattoos but he didn’t expect so many of them. His chest and arms are covered with it, and Louis is nearly drooling at the sight of his toned arms and broad back. Thankfully, he quickly comes back to his senses before Harry catches him staring.

Apparently it didn’t escape Halsey’s attention, who’s smirking like mad at Louis. She comes by his side, brushing his arm lightly and whispers into his ear a quick ‘not interested, my ass’ before walking away. 

Louis blushes when she throws one last knowing look at him as she gets situated on the deep green velvet armchair Harry has settled in the middle of the room. Louis quickly stands up from his spot to retrieve the shirt the stylist has left for him. Unlike Harry, he goes to the bathroom to get changed. The idea of being shirtless in front of everyone, especially Harry makes him uncomfortable even though he knows he’s in good shape and not ashamed of his body in the slightest.

The photoshoot doesn’t last long, since Halsey is clearly used to striking a pose and she obviously feels at ease with Harry. Soon enough, it’s time for Halsey to go to the O2 for rehearsals. Harry and Louis thank her profusely for the day spent together, and she admits that she hasn’t had so much fun in a while giving an interview, which earns her another hug from Harry. They quickly take back their clothes, now fresh and clean, bid farewell to Halsey’s team before leaving the room.

The sky has cleared when they leave the hotel. They decide to meet again for the concert later in the day, because Louis wants to get a head start on his article, and Harry needs to go back to HD for a meeting with Connor.

“I’ll see you tonight, Lou.” Harry says. He gives Louis a half hug, and Louis pretends his skin doesn’t tingle at the point of contact.

“See you tonight, H.”

The nickname slips and Louis would regret it if not for the look of pure joy on Harry’s face at the endearment. Harry scrunches up his nose and bites his lower lip, and he squeezes Louis’ shoulder slightly before turning on his heels and going to the tube station at the corner of the street.

When Louis returns to his flat later, he ineffectively tries to chase away the image of a shirtless Harry, but it keeps coming back at him, like unwanted flashbacks his treacherous mind enjoys replaying. He can feel his will to keep things professional with Harry wilting away slowly as the hours go by.

Louis wants to touch, wants to feel Harry’s broad shoulders under his palms, wants to know what it feels like to be with the other man in ways he never wished to be with a co-worker before. He doesn’t how long he can deny himself, and he’s not sure he wants to anymore.

Louis paces around the flat, his hands jittery and his mind disturbed. He opens a cupboard to find something to eat, only to realise food is not what he craves for, and opts instead for a cigarette, the burn in his throat bringing him some relief. It’s still not enough though, and he considers smoking a little joint to ease his mind, but chooses against it last minute.

He settles on his sofa instead, with his laptop and his notes, and he starts writing his article about Halsey. The words easily come to him, and so Louis spends two hours typing furiously on his laptop about Halsey’s poetics, her powerful voice and her charming manners.

It’s still early when he finishes the first draft, and since he doesn’t want to stay at home with his own thoughts, Louis shoots a quick text to Halsey’s manager, asking if he can come earlier than agreed upon. Nicholas invites him to rehearsals, and so Louis shoots up from his sofa, throws his phone away, and puts on Halsey’s album he bought on vinyl.

Louis hops into the shower and takes his time scrubbing himself, all the while shouting Halsey’s lyrics like a loon. He’s thrumming with excitation at the prospect of watching her perform.

He searches through his wardrobe, looking for a pair of clean skinny jeans, when he finds a black shirt Gigi gave him years ago. [Louis](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172737983401/fuckyeahhl-leaving-a-hotel-in-london-after-the) never had the occasion to wear it, the sheer fabric being a tiny bit too much for work, but tonight might be the night to pull it out.

Thirty minutes later, he’s out of his flat, looking the perfect combo between casual and hot. He’s not sure what the night holds, but he’s adamant about what he wants: he needs to take this thing he’s got going with Harry to the next level.

 

_Hold me down, hold me down_

_Sneaking out the back door, make no sound_

_Knock me out, knock me out_

_Saying that I want more, this is what I live for_

 

Louis is waiting backstage with Halsey’s team when Harry arrives at the O2 arena. He’s had a few drinks, courtesy of Halsey’s team throwing gin and tonic at him for the last couple of hours now, and he knows he’s past the point of tipsy but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to write about the concert in his article, the essence of his piece being solely based on the interview they had earlier in the day. He’s determined to enjoy the show without a care in the world.

Harry quickly spots Louis talking with Halsey’s manager, so he comes to them and he slips his hand around Louis’ waist as he greets the pair.

[Harry](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172244927266/harrystylesarchive-harrystyles-oberhausen-live) is breathtaking in his red suit - Louis suspects it’s Givenchy - but what catches Louis’ eyes instantly is the sheer white shirt beneath it, his butterfly tattoo and the laurels peeking through obscenely. Harry bumps his hip with Louis’ in a playful manner, and it’s probably the alcohol talking, but Louis feels the urge to drag Harry in the nearest empty room and ravish him. No one should look this good in such an eccentric suit.

Two weeks ago - hell even five days ago if he’s being honest - Louis would have brushed Harry’s hand away with a frown, but not tonight. Tonight, he feels carefree and brave, the alcohol running through his veins doing the trick, and Harry’s gentle touch is more than welcomed. Louis wiggles his eyebrows at Harry, and he covers his hand with his. 

 _You’re not going anywhere tonight,_ Louis thinks.

They chat with Nicholas until the manager has to go and they get directed toward the small press area in the right corner of the pit, where the staff venue is serving cocktails and beer to the journalists. Louis keeps Harry close the entire time they’re waiting for the concert to begin, and Harry throws amused glances at him, probably wondering where this new found easiness comes from after being kept at arm’s length since they met.

When Halsey arrives on stage, the entire stadium erupts in cries and Halsey starts singing her brand new single ‘Now or never’ with the crowd singing along. Louis loses himself in the music, he lets his eyes close and he sways his hips in rhythm as he gets carried away by the music.

He feels loose, like he’s floating and he doesn’t immediately register Harry pressing his body against his from behind. Louis turns his head around and he’s met with Harry’s intense stare, his green eyes a shade darker than usual. Harry has a lustful smile on his face, but there’s also a question in his eyes.

_Can we?_

It’s been a while since Louis felt this wanted, this desired, and so he smiles back and gets settled against Harry, his frame fitting perfectly against Harry’s larger one.

It takes a moment for them to get their hips to move in sync but once they do, Louis decides to up his game. He starts grinding against Harry slowly and as he lets one of his hands rest at the nape of Harry’s neck, his other hand finds its way to his own hip, where Harry’s is pressing slightly. Harry gasps but keeps moving against Louis, and they sway languidly against each other, eyes closed and Harry’s lips excruciatingly brushing the skin of Louis’ neck.

After a couple of songs spent plastered to Louis’ back, Harry is breathing shallowly, and his grip on Louis tightens as he buries his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, probably tired of keeping to himself. He tentatively presses a kiss there and Louis swallows hard, the whole thing starting to backfire in the most pleasant way. Harry’s hand gripping his hip slowly slides to Louis’ stomach and Louis intertwines their fingers, keeping Harry’s hand there in a possessive way.

“You’re good at this.” Harry whispers in Louis’ ear. “Really, really good.”

Louis hums, and grinds harder against him, enjoying the gasp that escapes Harry’s lips. Harry’s scent is intoxicating, and Louis feels hot all over as Harry’s big hands simultaneously brush and press against his body, making him feel like he’s ready to combust with how much he wants these hands on his bare skin. They spend the rest of the concert dancing closely together, shaking their hips to the music, a thin layer of sweat forming on both their bodies as the night goes on, wrapped up in their own bubble.

The show comes to a close and they begrudgingly disentangle their bodies, but Harry keeps Louis close, his hand placed securely on the small of his back. It takes some time to exit the O2, what with hundreds of people heading for the gates as well, and when they finally make it out, Louis welcomes the fresh air after being swamped all night by sweaty bodies from left and right.

He lights up a cigarette, the high from the concert and the drinks finally dissipating. They walk away from the stadium in comfortable silence, their shoulders playfully bumping against each other as they make it to the closest cab station.

“You wanna grab a drink or something?” Harry asks.

“Can’t.” Louis exhales deeply, and scratches his foot on the sidewalk. “Gotta get up early to finish my article.” Louis really, really doesn’t want to let Harry go, but he’s not one to neglect his work for a boy, as hot as he may be.

Harry hums as he slides his hands up and down Louis’ arms, causing Louis to turn his face away so he doesn’t blow his smoke in Harry’s face. He really needs to stop smoking this much.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” Harry says softly. “I’m supposed to interview Stevie Nicks in a few days, and I thought maybe we could do it together?”

“Really?” Louis’s eyebrows shoot up but he’s smiling at Harry. “That’s so cool, Harold, of course I’m in.”

“It is.” Harry says with a blinding smile. “Fleetwood Mac received the 2018 Musicares person of the year award, and I think it would be a great piece for the magazine. I’ve been trying to get in touch with the band’s manager for weeks!”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Louis inquires.

“Dunno. Wanted to be sure we could actually work together without it being weird first.”

“Hum. Well, I’m in, obviously.”

“Cool, cool.”

Louis gets temporarily blinded by the headlights of an approaching taxi.

“It feels like deja vu.” Louis snickers as Harry opens the door of the car, and motions for Louis to get in.

“It does.” Harry chuckles. “Always driving away from me, it seems.”

Louis rolls his eyes and flicks the butt of his cigarette away.

“I’ll see you soon, Styles. ”

“Goodnight, Lou.”

For the first time since they met, Louis isn’t bothered by the use of the nickname, on the contrary it makes his heart beat a little faster.

“Goodnight, H.” Louis throws on one last smile, and gets into the cab, a stupid grin etched on his face.

 

Louis gets to his place a bit after midnight, and after throwing his keys and jacket on his sofa, he goes to the kitchen in hopes to find something edible to eat. He retrieves the remnant of a fried noodles and chicken dish he ordered the previous night from his fridge, and he doesn’t bother to heat it up before wolfing down the content of the plastic box. The only light in the flat is the too bright neon of his kitchen, and Louis pauses a second between two bites, contemplating the silence reigning in his flat.

 _Maybe I should have asked Harry to come over for one more drink_ , Louis thinks, but he immediately chases the thought away with a shake of his head and a scoff. _Don’t be presumptuous, Lou. He might have refused. What’s done is done anyway._

There’s another voice though, who screams at him to stop being ridiculous. _Harry’s flirting is obvious, there’s no way he would have said no, you idiot._

Now that he’s eaten a bit, Louis doesn’t feel as drunk as he did when he left Harry on the pavement by the arena. He still is a bit tipsy and a shower would feel like heaven right now, after dancing all night with his body pressed against others.

He takes a long, hot shower, brushes his teeth to get rid of the sour taste of alcohol before slipping into comfy pyjamas and climbing into bed. The sensation of his smooth sheets and velvety duvet enveloping him makes him want to never leave his bed again, and Louis sighs happily as he buries his face in his fluffy pillow. 

As it happens frequently when he gets under the covers now, his thoughts drift off to Harry. It’s probably the alcohol making him do it, but tonight unlike all the others, Louis lets his hand drift down to the elastic of his boxers, his other hand reaching his nipples, caressing the buds gently.

Louis always finds satisfaction in touching himself but the idea of doing it with his mind filled with images of Harry, of his hands, of his silver cross dangling on his chest, of his exposed broad back and defined muscles moving under Louis’ scrutiny, that’s … well, that’s something else really.

Louis slowly slides his hand under the fabric of his boxers and starts teasing the head with two fingers, eager to touch but keen on taking his time for once. His other hand is still twisting his nipples just the way he likes, sending shivers down his spine. He moves his hand in lazy movements up and down his cock, his breathing becoming shallow with each second passing. 

Louis closes his eyes, as he imagines how it would feel if the hands touching him right now didn’t belong to him, but were covered in tattoos and clingy rings. Louis lets himself get submerged by images of Harry, the way he looked at Louis tonight with a lustful look on his face, the way Louis’ heart stuttered when Harry pressed his lips against his neck. Gentle but possessive. Hot but never too much.

Louis’ hand speeds up at the reminder, and his back arches when his hand moves at just the right angle, sending sparks of arousal in his lower belly, like fireworks exploding in the sky on bonfire night.

Louis doesn’t register when his groans of pleasure turn into a litany of ‘Harry Harry Harry’ again and again, he just feels his release assaulting him from everywhere, his nipple extra sensitive, his hand moving at a relentless pace, until a shrill runs through his entire body and he finds himself on the edge. He gives a last harsh twist of his wrist and comes undone in his bed, sweaty and sated, glimpses of Harry dancing against his back behind his eyelids.

 

_I just wanna take my time_

_We could do this, baby, all night, yeah_

_'Cause I want you bad_

_Yeah, I want you, baby_

_Slow, slow hands_  

_Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry_

_No, no chance_  

_That I'm leaving here without you on me_

 

The next morning, Louis wakes up at the crack of dawn and despite all the alcohol he drank the previous night, he is grateful he’s not nauseous or hungover. He lays around the flat in his pyjamas for a good hour, listening to the news on the radio and drinking tea to make it out of his slumber. The morning lights filter through the curtains and straight into his living room, unexpectedly warming the room for the season.

He’s putting the final touches to his article, when he peeks up at his kitchen clock and realises that it’s almost noon. After a quick shower, he decides to go to the gym since he hasn’t stepped a foot in the gym center since he came back to London, and he could really use a work out session right now, if only to get rid of the tension after the night spent plastered against Harry’s chest. He quickly puts on a tracksuit and the rest of his gym gear into a bag, and leaves his flat.

As he’s running on the treadmill, his thoughts wander to Harry; how it felt good to be pressed up against him during the concert, how it seems effortless to just lean in. His mind replays the conversation they had the previous day with Niall as well, about how Harry isn’t the kind to settle down, and Louis thinks that he might have found the perfect guy to be his friend with benefits. It would be easy with Harry, no feelings involved, no promises to become something more than just two people having fun from time to time. The plan is flawless, when Louis comes to think of it. He wouldn’t have to go to clubs to seek someone to have fun with anymore, Harry being a text away and all that. This plan sounds perfect, really. 

Louis is feeling very relaxed when he exits the gym center, hair damp and cheeks rosy after his work out session. He’s walking down his street when he gets an incoming call from Connor.

“Louis, my boy! How did it go with Halsey?” Connor asks.

“Hey boss. Went really well, I’m really happy we got to do this.”

“How did it go with Harry?”

“Alright. We’re interviewing Stevie Nicks together, but I guess you already know that.”

“Of course, I do. I know everything going on, you know that. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.”

 “It’s not everyday I get to interview an iconic rock star, man.”

 “Yeah, I figured as much.”Connor snorts. “Can’t wait to read your piece, Lou. I’m sure it’s going to be brilliant as usual.”

“Oh, thanks boss.” Louis coos. “I appreciate your undying support.”

“Yeah, well, quit being smug, Lou. I’ll see you soon, gotta go back to work.”

“Bye, boss!”

Louis ends the call and spots a text from Harry, asking if Louis can come to the office the next day to prepare the layout of the article about Halsey. Since Louis doesn’t have any meetings or interviews scheduled, he agrees to meet him after lunch. He throws his phone in his gym bag after locking it, a smile on his lips at the thought of seeing Harry again so soon.

 

_You can call me_

_When you feel like_

_I'm your good time_

_I'll be your temporary fix_

_You can call me_

_I'm always what you like_

_Let me be your good night_

 

Louis arrives at the HD headquarters the next day buzzing with energy. He’s supposed to meet with Harry so they can plan the layout of the article together, and Louis is expecting the tension between the two be at its peak after Louis purposely grinded shamelessly against the other man for the most part of the show.

Louis readjusts his jacket, and checks his teeth in the lift mirror - just to be sure, you know. He makes his way through the halls until he reaches Harry’s office and knocks on the door, after taking a second to assess the other man fiddling with newly developed shots.

Harry is hanging the pictures on a string stretched all over the room, being extra careful with how he manipulates them. He turns around at the sound of Louis’s fist slightly banging on the wooden door, and his smile is blinding even in the darkness of the room, plunged in a deep red light. Louis’s stomach gives a somersault he chooses to ignore, for reasons.

Harry goes straight to him and envelops Louis in a comforting hug, his hands settling on the small of Louis’ back. Louis unintentionally closes his eyes and lets himself appreciate for a moment how their bodies seem to fit effortlessly.

“Hey Lou.” Harry says, his voice a bit muffled by the fabric of Louis’ jacket.

“Good afternoon, Harold.”

Harry grunts at the nickname but doesn't let go, and he playfully pinches Louis’ hip, making Louis squeal at the sensation.

“Did you sleep alright?” Harry asks as he releases his hold. Harry keeps Louis at arm’s length though, his hands encircling Louis’s wrists for a brief moment, and Louis blushes slightly at the intimate contact.

“You were pretty wasted last night.” Harry adds with a wink.

The question might seem innocent but Louis knows that Harry is testing the water, just to be sure that Louis doesn’t regret anything that happened, as minor as it was.

“I’m alright, thanks. We had a good time.”

“Good, good.” Harry says with a small, satisfied smile. “You look good by the way.”

Louis looks down at himself; his skintight jeans make his thighs look more muscular than they actually are, the dark blue tee shirt he’s wearing a bit loose, exposing his collarbones and his ‘it is what it is’ tattoo peaking subtly despite the jacket hanging on his shoulders.

“So…” Louis says as he rubs his hands together. “I guess we should start by taking a look at your pictures?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry takes a hold of the plastic print tongs to remove a shot from one of the small baths containing chemicals, and holds it to the string held above the boxes. “So as you can see, I’m a bit old fashion. I mean, I do appreciate the digital tools and everything but I always felt like the printing comes out better when you use film. The results are just so much better, you know.”

Louis hums and comes to stand next to Harry, their shoulders brushing lightly against each other. The photograph Harry just hung is slowly coloring under the harsh lights of the room, and Louis finds the whole process fascinating. It’s like watching a polaroid coming to life, and it reminds him of his childhood memories, when he got his first polaroid and spent hours taking silly pictures of Lottie and his mum.

“You wanna try?” Harry says as he hands the tongs to Louis. “It’s not hard, I promise. You just have to pick it up on the right corner so you don’t damage the picture. Let me show you.”

Harry steps aside then, and gets situated behind Louis as he shows him how to manipulate the shots submerged in the dark liquid of the box. Louis exhales deeply as Harry takes a hold of his wrist - again - and helps him through it.

Louis is having a hard time focusing on the task at hand, with Harry’s breath tingling his neck every time he gives an instruction, his scent filling Louis’s nose. Vanilla and something else Louis cannot pinpoint. 

“Here, perfect.” Harry whispers in Louis’s ear. “You’re a natural, Lou.”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.” Louis says in the same tone.

They stay silent for a moment, as they watch the first colors of the photograph appear on the corners of the printing paper, and Louis clears his throat in a vain attempt to regain control. Harry must sense something because he takes a step aside, and offers a shy, crooked smile.

“Most of the shots are ready so if you want, we can get a look at them, and choose the ones you wanna use for the magazine.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Louis says in a raspy voice. “I never got to say, but I do love your work, you know. You’re really talented, H.”

“Thanks, Lou.” Harry says with a blush. “That’s really nice of you to say.”

“Well, it’s true.” Louis crosses his arms against his back, swinging back and forth for a second, his eyes cast away, a bit shy after his confession. “I’ve always thought there was something really special about your work, like you see things people don’t usually spot.”

“Maybe one day you’ll let me take your pictures? I feel like you’d be a very good subject.” Harry adds with a smirk.

“Yeah, one day maybe.” Louis responds.

“We should make it a nude project, I gather.”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes, but the intensity in Harry’s eyes at the simple suggestion doesn’t go unnoticed. _He’s being serious_ , Louis thinks.

“Come on, let’s check out what I have so far.” Harry says.

Turns out, every picture is more incredible than the last and Louis is having a hard time selecting only a few of them for the article. Halsey is definitely an amazing model, but the way Harry played with contrast and shadows, the color of the room and the pop star’s outfit make the pictures quite unreal. They finally decide on five shots to be used and they quickly finish the layout before sending it to Connor for validation.

There’s a flitting moment where Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself, if he’s supposed to just leave Harry to his work despite wanting to stay a bit longer in the comfort of the darkroom with the other man. Harry seems to be experiencing the small struggle, as he fiddles with his rings, his eyes focused anywhere but on Louis.

“I made a reservation at the Goring Hotel for the interview with Stevie Nicks.” Harry finally says. “I thought it was really nice. Is that alright with you?”

Louis scrunches up his nose, deep in thinking. He doesn’t like to make two consecutive interviews at the same place, and although The Goring hotel is indeed nice, he wants to do something else for Stevie Nicks. Especially since he has a specific place in mind for the interview to take place.

“Yeah, I mean the Goring is fine, but would you mind if I make the reservation? There’s this place I love, very chic and all, and they’re used to having celebrities so I thought maybe we could do that there.”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“The Skylon restaurant? It’s near Richmond Park.”

“Whatever you want, Lou. Just text me the details later and I’ll pass them on to Stevie’s team, alright?”

“Sure. I’m making the reservation for 8, then.”

“Sounds good. ”

“I should probably go, Harold. Got a lot of things to do, I’m sure you do as well.”

“I don’t mind the company.” Harry says with seductive tone. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Nah, gotta go now.” Louis adds, brushing off the offer. “I’ll see you later.” Louis runs his knuckles against Harry’s arm, and Harry follows the delicate movement with his eyes, lips pinched in a smile. Louis lets his arm fall against his side, throws a wink at the other man and turns on his heels. Once he’s out of the door, he exhales deeply; he’s more convinced than ever than the craving he’s got for Harry will not go away until he actually gets to have him.

 

The night of the interview, Louis is sitting at a table by himself, nervously picking up at his nails and reading the notes Harry sent about the interview with Stevie Nicks. Sure, he has met with massive stars along his career but this is Stevie Nicks for god’s sake. Fleetwood Mac is one of his favourite bands of all time, and he wants the interview to go without a hitch. He takes a look at his watch, noting that’s it’s almost eight. Harry and Stevie Nicks should be here soon.

Louis takes a moment to admire the view, the main reason why he wanted to come here. The [Skylon restaurant](https://www.timeout.com/london/restaurants/skylon) is situated on the first floor of the Royal Festival Hall, and the huge floor-to-ceiling windows offer an incredible view of the city.

A centerpiece bar, decorated with tiny bouquets of purple flowers and string lights separate the two dining rooms, giving a very classy vibe to the restaurant. The food is incredible as well, and the staff is known for being very discreet when a celebrity comes, so Louis is confident he’s not going to have to deal with paparazzi, which is always a relief.

Louis dressed up for the occasion but he’s not sure he made the right choice when it comes to it; he put on the famous grey pants that make his bum look sinful, and paired it with a black turtleneck and a simple black blazer with an embroidered white rose on the front pocket. He shrugged off the balzer when he arrived, but now the turtleneck makes him feel constricted and he’s starting to sweat in anticipation. Maybe not his smartest fashion move.

Louis is taken out of his reverie when someone slightly taps on his shoulder and Louis’ body heat reaches a whole new level when he gets to take a look at Harry. The photographer is wearing a [pink suit](https://harryasfood.tumblr.com/post/162283643313/cotton-candy) with a white button up shirt with frills, clinging to his body in all the best ways. Let Harry prove that he can’t ever be ridiculous, even in a pink suit. He’s carrying a brown leather camera satchel on his shoulder, and he’s smiling down kindly at Louis. Louis motions for him to take a seat as he gulps down with difficulty at the sight of him.

“You look very handsome, Lou.”

“Thanks, H. Same to you.”

Harry adorably blushes at the compliment, and puts down his bag on the back of his chair before unbuttoning the single button on his pink jacket, exposing his butterfly tattoos beneath yet another sheer shirt to Louis’ greedy eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Louis.” Harry says smugly.

“Sorry.” Louis clears his throat and hails a nearby waiter, orders two glasses of champagne under Harry’s scrutiny.

“The view is gorgeous, Louis, nice pick.” Harry says once the waiter is gone.

“I know, I really like this place. Used to come here with my Mum.”

“Yeah?” Harry says as he puts his chin on his tangled hands, his elbows on the table.

Louis hums and straightens his pristine table napkin on his lap. “She used to love coming here when she visited me. She was obsessed with the Isabella garden in Richmond Park for some reason. It’s like five minutes away from here.”

Louis chuckles sadly at the memory of his Mum wandering in the gardens, her hair in a messy bun, and a content smile on her face. He chases away the memory, a painful pang in his heart reminding him how much he misses her smile. 

“You okay?” Harry asks, his tone laced with worry.

Louis glances up at him, and offers a timid smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

The waiter comes back with their glasses of champagne and they cling their flutes against each others.

“Here’s to us, Lou.”

“Cheers.”

They’re quietly sipping on their champagne and debating on which Fleetwood Mac song is the best, when the receptionist approaches them.

“Gentlemen, good evening. I’m sorry to bother you but we just got a call from Stevie Nicks’ team.” The woman says with a constricted face. “Apparently, she can’t make it.”

“Really?” Harry says as he blanches. “Did they say why?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know, but they insist on paying for dinner, as a way of making up for the inconvenience .”

Harry and Louis exchange a defeated look, both disappointed by the news.

“Well, I guess since we’re here, might as well. What do you think, H?”

“Sure.” Harry says with a sad face. “I guess.”

The receptionist places two menus in front of them, before she turns on her heels and goes back to her station, and Louis sighs in disappointment. He was really looking forward to meeting with Stevie Nicks, and by the defeated look on Harry’s face, he knows the other man must feel the same.

They spend a couple of minutes focused on the menu, choosing what to eat; Louis goes with the risotto with truffles, the chef’s speciality, and Harry opts for a cauliflower and mushroom soup.

“We should get wine as well.” Harry says as he takes a hold of the wine menu.

“Trying to get me drunk, Styles?”

“Absolutely.” Harry says. “You’re a lot of fun when you’re drunk. Can’t seem to keep your hands off me when you are.” He adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“You’re a flirt.”

“And you’re hot.” Harry claps his hands, then. “A match made in heaven!”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

“Come on, Louis, don’t take this away from me.”

“Take what away from you?” Louis asks, intrigued.

“Well, it’s an opportunity for me. To like, wine and dine you I guess.”

“Are you always like this? So confident about your seduction skills or am I getting a special treatment?”

“I am nothing but persistent but you do get a special treatment.”

“Don’t you think it’s too much sometimes?”

Harry’s expression sombers at the question, and Louis cringes a bit.

“No, I don’t. I mean, when I say I’m persistent, I just mean that as long as I feel that the other person is enjoying the attention, that there’s mutual flirting, I-” Harry pauses, his jaw contracting and his eyes cast away. “Does it make you uncomfortable ?” He asks as he fumbles with his fork.

“NO, I’m not, of course I’m not Harold. It’s just you never seem to take no for an answer.”

“I like to flirt.” Harry shrugs, his eyes still looking anywhere but at Louis, “but I’m always clear about what I want. I never lie about my intentions, I never try to deceive someone on purpose.”

“I believe you. You don’t have to justify yourself-”

“I feel like I do though, because you’re making me feel like a creep right now, Lou.”

“I’m sorry that’s not… Fuck, you’re not a creep, okay? I’m just not used to it.”

“I’ll stop if that’s what you want. I’ve never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Harry, stop. I’m not.”

Louis takes Harry’s hand in his and squeezes lightly and the feeling of Harry’s hand enveloping his own is as overwhelming as the first time they did this, when they met for the first time in Louis’ office, goosebumps erupting on the surface of his arm.

“It’s all good I promise.” Louis adds as he takes back his hand. “I’d tell you if you make me uncomfortable. I’m just not used to it.”

“Oh come on, don’t pretend you’re not aware of the effect you have on people.”

“I don’t, I swear! I mean, I’m not completely oblivious but I’m usually the one going for it, that’s all. I do like the attention, though.” Louis adds. “Back in college, Zayn used to call me an attention whore.” Louis huffs. “He still does sometimes.”

“Didn’t know you guys knew each other for so long.”

“We met in our first year, and it was like friendship at first sight you know? I dreamt of becoming a successful songwriter and he wanted to be a singer. We were meant to be.”

“What were you like back then?” Harry asks eagerly.

“I was all about braces and a terrible fringe, red pants and …I partied a lot, drank too much. I don’t know. I was very flamboyant.”

“And you’re not anymore?”

“I guess I just grew up, tamed myself a bit.”

“That’s a shame. I would have loved to know you back then.”

“Maybe you’ll get to see that part of me one day, Styles.”

Harry grins, and raises his half glass of champagne, Louis mirroring the action. “To us getting to know each other better.” 

“Cheers.” Louis responds with a smile.

 A waiter arrives at their table with their meals and Louis orders a bottle of red Argentine wine. They dig into their plates, no longer defeated with Stevie Nicks’ absence, but rather pleased with the opportunity to spend time together. Louis doesn’t even remember why he was nervous about spending time with Harry to begin with. Now that he knows they’re on the same page, implicitly aware of what could happen between them.

As the night goes on, the wine loosens Louis up and Harry traps one of Louis’ ankles between his own under the table, and Louis doesn’t budge. Harry’s cheeks are tinted pink because of the alcohol, accentuated by the color of this suit, and Louis thinks to himself that he’s probably the most beautiful man he laid eyes on in the longest time.

They decide on sharing a dessert - how very coupley of them - and Louis doesn’t even protest when Harry dips a strawberry in the small chocolate fondue set between them. He brings his fork up to Louis’ lips with a question in his eyes. Louis opens his mouth and takes in the fruit, a low, indecent moan escaping his throat as he tastes the combination of chocolate and berry. He’s definitely doing this on purpose. 

“Fuck.” Harry mutters, his eyes fixed on Louis’ mouth. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Louis smirks and licks his chocolate stained lip slowly, his eyes full of mischief set on Harry’s intensely. Harry puts down the fork and bites on his knuckles, his other hand tapping on the table.

“We should go.” He says abruptly. “It’s getting late.” 

Louis nods almost frantically, and he stands up at the same time Harry does. They thank the receptionist for dinner and exit the restaurant side by side, both feeling dizzy and excited about what the night has to offer.

There’s a taxi station right at the front of the restaurant, but they don’t go for it immediately. A light drizzle is falling down, and they stay under the cover of the restaurant’s awning, none of the them making a move quite yet. Harry’s hand keeps brushing against Louis’ in a soft manner that makes Louis feel dizzier by the minute.

Louis wants to light up a cigarette but his treacherous mind tells him that if Harry makes a move to kiss him, he’d rather not have smoke breath. He represses the need to take one out his pack and turns toward Harry who’s already looking at him with hooded, hungry eyes.

“I had a great time.” Harry says, his warm breath fanning over Louis’s cheek. 

“Yeah, me too, H.”

“I like it when you call me that. Much better than Harold, at least.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Louis bites his lip and stares at the sidewalk for a second, before glancing up at Harry. They’re standing close to each other, and Harry places his hand on Louis’ hip, smoothing down the fabric of his jacket.

“Do you think we could-” 

That’s the moment Harry’s phone starts ringing, a Shania Twain tune blasting from the small device, making the inner pocket of his suit jacket vibrate.

“Just ignore it.” Harry says in a whisper.

“What if it’s important?” Louis asks a bit breathless. Louis doesn’t want him to answer but who would call at this hour if not for something important?

Harry’s shoulders hunch in defeat and he retrieves his phone from his pocket, checking the ID caller before answering.

“Fuck it’s my sister. I need to get this.”

Louis nods and takes a step backward, and Harry takes the call as he walks away to get some privacy. Louis finally lights up a cigarette, sensing that the moment has passed and that he’s probably not going to get what he wants tonight. He can see the tension in Harry’s shoulders as he speaks to his sister; something’s wrong if the increasing discomfort on Harry’s face is anything to go by. Harry ends up the call after a couple of minutes, a deep frown etched on his face and he sighs loudly as he makes his way back to Louis.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry. Gemma is having some kind of pain and my brother-in-law is in Manchester, she’s freaking the fuck out right now and-

“Hey, hey, hey, that’s alright. You go and be with your sister. Rain check, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Louis crashes the butt of his cigarette, and stands on his tiptoes to press a light kiss on Harry’s cheek. He lets his lips linger for a second on Harry’s smooth skin. Harry leans into the touch, eyes closed and breath hitching.

“I’ll see you later, Styles. Take care of your sister, alright?”

“I will.” Harry says with a dreamy look. “ Night, Lou.”

Louis gets into the first cab and turns on his seat, watching Harry take the one right behind him. He slumps down on the leather seat as he gives his address to the driver, and he watches the streets of London pass in blur.

He’s dozing off in front of his TV when he gets a text from Harry later that night, the simple text snatching a smile out of him when he reads it.

“Nothing to worry about, just stress-induced pain for the lady, they’ll be fine. Goodnight, Lou xx”

 


	3. Chapter 3

After that night, something drastically changes between the two of them. Louis comes to the office at least three times a week, a rare occurrence for someone who doesn’t actually need to be there to get work done. Connor is very pleased with the article they’ve done about Halsey and he encourages them to work together again as soon as possible. Louis and Harry exchange a knowing look at that.

Louis has a few assignments for the website lined up until the end of the month that don’t require the Head of Photography to come with him, and so he doesn’t see Harry much in the following weeks, but they manage to have lunch together on a couple of occasions nonetheless.

Harry is an endless pit of bad puns, as Louis had picked up on already, and he goes as far as offering Louis a tee shirt printed with a bee and an inscription that reads ‘honey bee yourself’.

“You can’t be serious.” Louis says as he unpacks the shirt from the plastic container. They’re having a late afternoon tea at the HD cafeteria, after Harry texted Louis and pleaded for him to come and join him before he has to go back to work. Needless to say, Louis didn’t hesitate for long before packing up his stuff and going down to the cafeteria floor.

“Admit it, it’s brilliant and you love it.”

“You’re a dork!” Louis says laughing.

Harry ignores the comment, even brushes it with a dramatic flick of his wrist and an eye roll before he continues.

“The shop’s in Camden, and let me tell you, it’s amazing. I’m definitely getting a shirt for myself next time.” Harry sips on his tea, his eyes focused on Louis, a small smile stretched on his lips as he watches Louis putting the shirt against his chest to see if it’ll fit. “I have a whole new catalogue of puns to use, you’re gonna lose it.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

“Okay.” Harry sets his mug on the table, his large palms going full circle around it. “Why shouldn’t you fall in love with a pastry chef?” Harry smirks.

Louis raises his eyebrows, waiting patiently.

“Because he’ll dessert you for sure!” Harry guffaws at the joke, and Louis takes his head in his hands, desperately endeared with the other man.

“One more, one more.” Harry says as he wipes fake tears from the corner of his eyes. “What do you call a fake noodle?” He pauses then for dramatics, eyeing Louis with an amused expression. “An impasta!”

“My god, this is terrible, Styles. You’re getting worse with each passing day.”

“You love my jokes, stop it.”

Louis rolls his eyes amused but doesn’t correct him, and Harry beams at him, a soft look on his face.

“Do you have something planned for Halloween?” Louis asks then, completely out of the blue.

“Hum, no?”

“Zayn is having a party at his place. I thought maybe you’d like to come with Niall.”

“Sounds cool.” Harry says, perking up. “I haven’t gone to a Halloween party in ages.”

“Yeah me neither, but Zayn’s girlfriend is in town and any occasion is a good one to throw a party with her so… Don’t know how I’m going to find the time to get a costume though.”

“I have a few ideas…”

“Please do share.”

“Adam, like, just come naked. Please. Or an angel, that would be nice. Or like something darker like a vampire or something. I’d let you bite my neck any day.”

“Only if you come as a mermaid. I can picture you with the glitters and stuff. Very dreamy.”

“I don’t have the hair for that anymore. Used to wear them really long, you know. My sister always said I looked like a mermaid in a way.”

“I need to see pictures, Styles.”

Harry hums thoughtfully, and Louis catches the time on the clock set above the coffee barstool. He knows Harry has a meeting with the photographers team soon, so he stands up from his chair and grabs his stuff under Harry’s scrutiny.

“We should go, H. Your meeting is like in twenty minutes.” He says as he points at the clock.

Harry turns swiftly on his spot before getting into gear, stuffing his bag with his phone and a half-eaten vanilla muffin.

“So I guess I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you Zayn’s address. Don’t forget to ask Niall.” Louis says as they part ways in the corridor, Louis taking a turn right, and Harry going to the darkroom.

“Can’t wait to see your costume, Lou.” Harry says as he walks away with a wink.

Louis bites his lip as he watches Harry walk away.

 

_So get out, get out, get out of my head_

_And fall into my arms instead_

_I don't, I don't, don't know what it is_

_But I need that one thing_

_And you've got that one thing_

 

The night of the party, Louis is wiggling his bum in front of his bathroom mirror as he gets ready, the latest Arctic Monkeys’ album blasting through his speakers. He deliberately ignores his phone chiming incessantly; he doesn’t need to take a look at it to know that it’s Harry, who’s been harassing him all week to know which costume he chose.

At first, Louis eluded the question because he had no idea, but now he just enjoys dismissing him and let him speculate.

Louis didn’t get enough time to find a very elaborate costume to wear since he got swamped with work during the week, and so he ultimately chose to go with an easy option; a dark suit and a white shirt half unbuttoned, with a slim fit Superman shirt underneath. He opts for glasses instead of contacts to perfect his look, and parts his hair on the left side with hair product, making his hair look darker than it actually is. All in all, he looks like a very young and handsome Clark Kent, straight out of a comic book.

 

The first thing Louis notices when he passes the threshold of Zayn’s flat is that Gigi went all out, as usual. There are spiders webs all over the walls, bowls filled with fakes eyeballs and bug-shaped candies on the counter tables set all around the living room.

A huge banner reading ‘trick or treat’ - probably Zayn’s artwork - is suspended on the far wall of the room with ghost-faced balloons on each side of it, and black fake roses litter the place, giving the flat a very gothic vibe. And of course, because it wouldn't be a party without it, the kitchen counter has been turned into a giant bar with all kinds of alcohol and piles of orange plastic goblets.

The flat is plunged in dark lights, with neons illuminating the guests’ faces from time to time, sweaty bodies gathered in the main area of the flat, laughing and dancing to the beat of ‘Everybody’ by the Backstreet Boys.

Louis is watching the scene with a small smile on his face, until a familiar hand presses against his side with a gentleness that can only belong to his best friend. Zayn is looking phenomenal in his Spiderman costume, fitting his lean body perfectly. His eyes are a bit glassy, glinting with excitement. If Zayn’s wasn’t straight and his long time best friend, Louis would definitely go for it.

“I see you went for DC, you traitor.” Zayn snickers. He presses a wet kiss to Louis’ cheek and hands him a drink. Louis sniffs the content, and hums in contentment when the smell of rum and coke fills his nostrils.

“I knew you’d go for Spidey, Zee.” Louis says as gets situated beside his best friend. “So predictable.”

Zayn shrugs, and takes a sip of his own drink, looking around with a satisfied expression, clearly happy with what he and Gigi have done with the place.

“Wait until you see Harry, man.” Zayn says. “You’re gonna pass out.”

As if on cue, [Harry](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/173764354111/harryisart) appears in Louis’s line of sight when a couple dancing steps aside and goes to sit on the couch, and Louis’ jaw goes slack, his eyes bugging out. Harry is wearing black leather pants with a net shirt and a leather waistcoat, a pair of Ray Ban glasses perched on his head, and he looks… Unreal.

The pants look painted on his strong legs, leaving little to the imagination and Louis’s throat constricts at the sight. All of Harry’s tattoos are displayed for his greatest pleasure, and Louis can’t help but openly stare until Zayn nudges his elbows playfully.

“Close your mouth, mate, you’re drooling all over my floor.”

Louis licks his lips, his grip tightening on his cup as he watches Harry laugh with his head thrown back, clearly enjoying the company of the girl dressed as a sexy witch he’s talking to. Louis gulps down his drink in one go, his eyes set on Harry like a hawk, feeling a bit jealous at the attention the girl is getting from Harry.

Louis can’t remember the last time he’s been so attracted to someone, and the tingling feeling in his stomach only grows stronger as he keeps observing the other man from afar. The sexy witch is led away by a group of girls determined to make her dance with them, and so Louis leaves Zayn behind without notice, taking long strides until he gets to Harry.

“Look at you, Styles.” Louis says with a rasp, his voice deeper than usual with arousal. “You’re finally the rock star you’ve always wanted to be.”

“Hey, Lou.” Harry responds. “Thanks, I guess?” Harry takes an appreciative look at Louis’ outfit. “You look nice. I like the glasses.”

“Thanks.” Louis says with a slight blush covering his cheeks. “I don’t like to wear them, but it seemed more than fitting tonight.”

Harry hums, and glances down, noticing that Louis’ drink is empty. He gestures at it and nods at the bar. “Refill?” He says.

“Yes, please.”

They find Niall - who opted for a peplum look, a white toga draped over him and a crown of laurels on his head - at the makeshift bar in the kitchen, singing out of tune to the music playing, bottles in his hands as he concocts a mix Louis suspects to be deadly.

“Heyyyy, Lou!” The Irish lad shouts. “Sick party, mate ! Thanks for inviting us!”

“Don’t thank me, mate, thank Zayn.” Louis says as he hands his cup to Niall, who pours a large amount of rum in it, followed by a splash of soda. Louis is definitely getting hammered tonight.

The three of them sip on their drinks, laughing and bantering, occasionally interrupted by the other guests coming by the kitchen to make small talk and have a refill. Louis is so enraptured in Harry, his body pressed against his side, his hands caressing his hip here and there that he’s having a hard time focusing on anything else. Niall, who has a perpetual smirk tugged at his lips whenever he looks at the pair, keeps the drinks coming at a steady pace, and Louis feels loose and happy.

Feeling bold with all the alcohol running through his veins, Louis takes Harry’s hand and nods to the dance floor, a silent question in his eyes. Harry’s eyes glint with mischief as he squeezes Louis’ hand in confirmation, and so Louis leads them to the center of the living room where the dancing occurs.

Louis plasters his back to Harry’s front, and takes a hold of his hands, gently placing them at his waist as he starts dancing against him. Harry buries his face in the crook of his neck, keeping Louis pressed against him possessively and Louis is thriving.

Louis feels hot all over, his body moving in sync with Harry’s and the world around them disappears for a moment. At a particular harsh grind of their hips, Harry moans in Louis’ ear and heat pools in Louis’ stomach, a deep satisfaction filling him, knowing he’s got as much of an effect on Harry as the other man does on him.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy here, Lou.” Harry whispers through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Obviously.”

Their dancing is probably more explicit than acceptable for a public place like this, but Louis doesn’t care about his surroundings as he keeps grinding slowly against Harry, a voice in his head chanting _more, more, more_.

Suddenly, Harry turns Louis around, his hand coming to Louis’s heated neck, his fingers digging into the flesh there to make him look at him.

“Louis...” Harry whispers hotly against his face. “Can we… I-”

“Yes, Yes.” Louis says with a short breath, so eager to get his hands on the other man as soon as possible. He’s been dreaming of taking Harry’s pants off of him since the moment he laid eyes on him tonight, and dancing plastered against him did nothing to fix the growing situation in Louis’ pants.

“Follow me.” Louis says. He takes hold of Harry’s hand and they walk out of the living room towards Zayn’s office as inconspicuously as possible, although he’s pretty he just saw Niall throw a wink in their direction. So much for subtlety, then.

The second Louis closes the door behind them, Harry cages Louis’ frame against the door, Louis’ head banging on it with a soft thud. Louis quickly pockets his glasses and Harry licks his lip in anticipation. He attaches his mouth to Louis’ neck then, sucking and licking at Louis’ pulse point as if his life depends on it, his breathing becoming increasingly shallow as he tastes Louis for the first time.

Louis buries his hands in Harry’s hair, tugging harshly at the loose, curly strands, making the pair of black glasses on his head to fall on the floor. Harry growls at the pleasure and pain sensation, and heat coils in the pit of Louis’ stomach, pulsing down into his groin.

Harry slides one of his thighs in between Louis’ legs, and slowly but firmly grinds against him. His hands start unbuttoning Louis’ shirt with a gentleness that clashes with the way he moves against Louis’s thigh and Louis let his eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation of their bodies pressed together so close. It’s so much and not enough at the same, and Louis is barely holding himself against the door.

 _So good,_ he thinks to himself.

Eventually, Louis pushes against Harry’s chest, forcing him to walk backward, Harry’s mouth never leaving Louis’ neck until Harry’s knees hit the leather sofa placed in the corner of the room.

Harry falls on the sofa with a plop, and Louis straddles Harry’s hips, his whole body shaking with anticipation. He bats Harry’s eager hands away to take off his jacket and shirts by himself, and he’s left shirtless and seething with desire on top of Harry.

Harry takes a moment to appreciate Louis’ body above his own, eager eyes trailing all over Louis’ body and Louis lets him. Louis gently starts caressing the birds inked right under his collarbones. Harry closes his eyes and shivers noticeably, his hands on Louis’ thighs squeezing so tight Louis expects finger-shaped bruises to appear.

Louis gets distracted when he hears people laughing in the corridor, probably looking for the bathroom, and he pauses for a second, his forehead pressed against Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry...” Louis whispers huskily.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t be doing this here. If Zayn comes in, he’s going to freak out.”

Harry cradles Louis face with his hands, eyes boring into Louis’ with a fierce intensity, and Louis’ heart misses a beat.

“I don’t care.” Harry replies, breathless. “I want you, Lou. I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks now. Please.”

Louis winces in pleasure as Harry’s fingertips slowly slide down from his face all the way down to his stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his skin. When his hands reach Louis’ waist, he squeezes hard and bucks his hips up, and Louis rolls his eyes, letting them them fall shut with pleasure.

“Tell me to stop and I will, Lou.” Harry breathes out. “But I know you don't want to. You have no idea how many times I thought about all the things I wanna do to you. I'm obsessed with your tattoos, Lou. Fuck, I just, I want to trace them all with my tongue. Have a taste of you, you know? Will you let me do that?”

Louis sighs deeply, and when he opens his eyes again, Harry is still looking at him, with something akin to awe in his eyes, and really how could Louis deny this gorgeous man wrapped up in his arms, so willing to give him everything he needs and more?

Without a word, Louis sets on taking off the waistcoat and the poor excuse of a shirt Harry is wearing and throws them on the floor. He brushes his fingertips against Harry’s nipples, making the other man gasp, before he lets his hands rest on his thighs, leaning over Harry with a smirk. Harry grabs Louis’ bum and squeezes hard, his eyes set on Louis’ mouth.

When their lips finally crash against each others in a bruising kiss, Louis melts on the inside, a prickling of desire crackling over his skin. Kissing Harry feels like finally being able to breathe again after too much time spent underwater. Like each slide of Harry’s lips is a bubble of oxygen Louis needs and craves. It’s intoxicating, terribly addictive already and Louis moans in unabashed pleasure.

Harry withdraws a bit at the sound, a smile appearing on his face right before he playfully licks Louis’ lower lip, asking for more. Louis indulges him, and fireworks explode in Louis’ head when their tongues meet in a sensual dance. A first kiss should be more awkward than this, Louis thinks, but Harry’s lips are moving against his just like he knows exactly how Louis likes to be kissed, feverish and passionate, and just absolutely perfect.

Louis needs to get Harry out of his clothes so he stands up from Harry’s lap to get rid of his pants in a swift motion, expecting Harry to do the same. Harry mimics the movement, leaving them both in their underwear, and they collapse gracelessly on the sofa again, no clothes working as barrier between their bodies anymore.

“What do you want?” Harry asks softly. They switched position in the process of getting rid of their clothes, Harry being the one straddling Louis’s lap now.

“I… I want to fuck you, H. I really do, but I don’t have anything.” Louis whispers in defeat.

“In my waistcoat.” Harry says as he peppers light kisses on Louis’ shoulder, his hands buried in Louis’s hair. Harry stands up again to retrieve the items in the inner pocket of his waistcoat and gets rid of his briefs as well, finally allowing Louis to look at him in all his glorious nakedness.

The air gets knocked out of Louis’ lungs for a second as he takes Harry in, but he still finds it in him to get rid of his own underwear as well. Harry is back on him in a flash and Louis moans loudly at the feeling of their crotches rubbing against each other in a delicious friction. Louis lets his hands roam against the broad expanse of Harry’s back, his fingers pressing hard against his ribs, making Harry giggle on his lap, and fuck, how does Harry manages to be endearing even in these moments? Louis wonders.

Harry is still holding the condom and the small sachet of lube in his hand, and Louis snatches the items away from him with a devilish smile. Louis sucks a deep bruise between the two birds inked on Harry’s chest, enjoying the gasps escaping Harry’s mouth as he clutches on Louis’ body. He never stops rocking his hips against him while Louis marks him, and Louis exhales deeply as he tries not to come on the spot.

When he is satisfied with his work on Harry’s skin, Louis finally rips the small packet of lube open and coats three fingers with it. He glances up at Harry then, his upper body blotched pink and his eyes wild, hair in disarray and Louis thinks to himself not for the first time tonight that Harry is truly, undoubtedly the most gorgeous man he’s ever been with.

“Can I ?” Louis demands. Harry nods almost frantically and levels himself up a bit to give Louis access, the muscles on his thighs tensing with the movement. Louis probes at Harry’s entrance, gently feeling him around as Harry inhales sharply above him.

Louis makes it his mission to prep Harry thoroughly, inserting one finger at a time, scissoring and twisting them until Harry is left moaning and shaking with pleasure on his lap, mouth open wide, three fingers nestled inside of him.

“Feels so good, Lou.” Harry says, eyes wide, pupils blown. “Don’t stop.”

Louis’ cock is throbbing between his legs, and as much as he wants to keep watching Harry fucking himself on his fingers, he needs to feel Harry’s heat surround him now.

“You sure? I was kind of hoping to fuck you soon, love.”

Harry hisses at the words and circles Louis’ wrist with his fingers, keeping them buried deep inside him. The action causes Louis fingertips to graze against his spot, and Harry throws his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, yes please.”

Louis withdraws his fingers then, and he quickly puts the condom on with shaky fingers, his hands working on auto pilot at this point. The apocalypse could start right about now, and Louis would gladly choose to spend his last moment on earth watching Harry quiver above him, with his hooded eyes and chest heaving with anticipation.

Harry takes hold of his cock and sinks on Louis’ dick at an excruciating slow pace, making them moan in unison once Harry is fully seated on his lap. Louis doesn’t have much space to move like he would like to, so he lets Harry fuck himself on his lap, enjoying the way Harry rolls his hips languidly, using Louis for his own pleasure.

“Come on, Lou.” Harry says in Louis’ ear. “Fuck me.”

And so Louis grabs onto Harry’s arse cheeks, and starts thrusting with every ounce of energy he’s got at a relentless pace.

Harry is panting hard above him as he matches Louis thrust for thrust and Louis’s body aches with exhaustion and pleasure as he fucks into him. Harry is chanting Louis’ name over and over and Louis’ orgasm is building in the pit of his stomach. Louis glances down between their bodies, the sight of Harry sinking down on him repeatedly driving him crazy and one of his hands leaves Harry’s body to take hold of his cock.

“Oh my God!” Harry shouts when Louis’ hand moves up and down his length. “I’m gonna come, Lou.”

“Let go, love. Wanna see you come so bad.” Louis utters, voice deep.

Louis’s hands speed up, and Harry’s whole body tenses at that. He comes hard between their bodies, eyes squinting and mouth hung open before he slumps down on Louis, and buries his face in the crook of Louis’ neck.

Louis slows his movement, knowing that Harry must feel sensitive but Harry’s hold on him tightens, and he turns his head slightly, teeth biting the sweaty flesh of his neck, suckling lightly before saying:

“Come on, I want to see you come too.”

Louis emits a low grumble at that, and forces Harry to look at him in the eyes as he cages his face between his hands, their foreheads pressed together, blue meeting green in an intense staring contest.

Louis thrusts up again, Harry moving with him, and when he brings one of Louis’ hands to his mouth, sucking on his middle finger, the sight is enough to make Louis lose it. He comes hard, his teeth digging in the warm flesh of Harry’s neck.

They stay wrapped up around each other as they come down, spent and sated. Louis presses feather light kisses against Harry’s skin, humming contentedly against him. He doesn’t want to move, wants to stay buried inside Harry a moment longer but he needs to before it becomes uncomfortable for Harry. So he pushes against Harry’s thighs to remove him from his lap. Harry falls down on the sofa next to him and Louis gets rid of the condom, ties it up and gets up to throw it on the trash by Zayn’s desk. They look like a proper mess right now, but Louis doesn’t care one bit. He sits beside Harry and quickly runs his hand over his thigh, and Harry leans against him, his chin propped up on Louis’ shoulder.

“That was…” Harry trails off.

“Yeah.” Louis giggles.

“Next time, we’re doing this on a bed.” Harry says. He presses a kiss on Louis’ shoulder before he stands up to retrieve their clothes on the floor.

And yes, Louis stomach flutters at the mention of a next time.

 

_We can roll in the darkness_

_Let me touch you where your heart aches_

_And if you're feeling the weakness_

_Well, I told you, baby, that you can call me_

_I'll be your temporary fix_

_You can call me_

 

 

After the Halloween party, Louis’ mind is constantly invaded by memories of Harry bouncing on his lap, panting and moaning. It’s annoying really, especially since they manage to spend time together at work between assignments, but outside of work, one of them is always busy when the other isn’t. As much as they try to make their schedules fit together, there’s always something coming up, and Louis is tired of sending and receiving “rain check?” texts.

Harry often tries to convince Louis to have what he calls ‘private sessions’ when they’re at work, but Louis categorically refuses. He’s too afraid to be caught, and Harry pouts every time Louis rejects him.

He’s not the only one frustrated with their situation though. Louis can hardly keep his hands off of Harry, he’s always eager to touch and feel, but he doesn’t want to have to rush. He wants to lay Harry on a proper bed and fuck into him until Harry sees stars and moans his name, and he’s not having it any other way. He blames Harry for implementing the idea in his brain.

They try to be as subtle as possible when they’re at work, but Louis knows deep down that they’re being obvious to their co-workers. They constantly throw amused glances their direction when they’re laughing in the staff kitchen, Louis pressed against the counter, Harry’s hands placed nonchalantly on his hips or his shoulders. Oh well.

Kissing could relieve them of the obvious sexual tension, Louis knows that but he makes a point of not doing it either. He knows he’s being stupid but kissing somehow would give more importance to what this really is. He can’t help but think of the scene in ‘Pretty Woman’ when Julia Roberts tells Richard Gere that she doesn’t kiss her clients because kissing means caring, that it implies feelings. So he doesn’t kiss Harry, even if he daydreams about it.

 

On Friday, they’re at the cafeteria, sipping on their tea when Louis gets an idea.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Hum, no. Why?”

“Do you want to come to one of my songwriting classes? I have one tomorrow morning. It’s early but you said you wanted to so…”

“Of course, Lou.” Harry beams at him. “What time?”

“9.”

“That’s not early.” Harry replies chuckling.

“I’m not a morning person okay? 9 on a Saturday is fucking early, Harold.”

Harry laughs behind his cup. “I’ll be there.”

“Cool, cool. I thought maybe we could grab lunch afterwards?”

 _Or go to my place_ , Louis thinks.

“Can’t. I have to meet with Gem for lunch. She’s got a doctor appointment and she wants me to come with her.”

_Here goes my plan at stripping you off your clothes._

“That’s alright.” Louis says instead. He stands up from his chair “Anyway. I should get back to work.”

“Yeah, me too. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Bye Harold.” Louis says with a wink.

As he goes back to his office, Louis curses at the universe, angry and defeated. Tomorrow is not the day he’ll get to have Harry again.

***

 

Louis is waiting outside the Institute with two cups of tea in his hands when a cab slows down before him. He can see Harry handing a tenner to the driver, before he gets out of the car. Harry is wearing light blue jeans and a black shearling coat and Louis stares appreciatively as he makes his way toward him.

“Hey, Lou!” Harry greets.

“Good morning Harold.” Louis says as he hands Harry one of the cups. “How are you feeling on this very fine morning?”

“I’m doing great, thanks.” Harry replies chirply. “Woke up early. I wanted to go for a run before meeting with you.”

“Seriously?” Louis says, eyes wide. “You really are a health freak. A vegan, running addicted freak.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be in shape.” Harry huffs indignantly.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.” Louis says with a smirk. “I saw you naked, I can tell it’s worth it.”

Harry blushes lightly, and he nudges Louis’ shoulder playfully.

“Thanks for the tea by the way. Should we get going now?”

“Yeah, it’s showtime.” Louis sing songs.

 

They quickly make their way to the classroom, where a dozen students are already seated, going over the homework Louis gave them the previous week. The room is a basic music classroom, with various instruments on the stage next to a huge blackboard still covered with a partition scribbled with chalk. The black piano takes up most of the space, but there’s also a couple of guitars placed on their stands, and a complete drum set.

Harry takes a seat in the back of the room, while a couple of students look at him curiously, not used to having visitors observing their class. Once everyone has finally arrived, Louis puts his tea on the desk and starts the session, feeling a bit more nervous with usual.

“Good morning, everyone. Today, we’re starting our lesson with what you had to prepare for today. We have a special guest with us this morning, so please say hi to Harry. I promise he’s not going to be a bother, he’s just here to observe how fantastic I am.”

The students laugh lightly and offer a collective “Hi Harry”, and Harry waves awkwardly from his spot in the back.

“So, last time we saw each other, I asked you to come up with a verse and a chorus based on a theme we chose together, which was ‘the satisfaction of finally getting what you want’. So, who wants to go first?”

Louis’ students turn particularly silent at that, and Louis crosses his arms against his chest, his foot tapping obnoxiously on the linoleum.

“Come on, people! I need a volunteer ! Don’t let young Harold here intimidate you!”

One of the boys sat in the front finally raises his hand, and Louis claps his hands enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Aaron. Let’s hear what you’ve got for us.”

The rest of the lesson goes smoothly after that. Each student presents what they come up with and Louis is really happy with the progress they made since the start of the year. Some of the students are obviously more talented than others, but all in all, he’s proud of what everyone’s achieved.

The lesson is almost over, when Sakina, one of Louis’ favourite students - he’ll deny it if asked - raises her hand.

“Mister Tomlinson?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I wrote something else the other day, and I’d really like your opinion. Do you think we could do that?”

“Of course, love! Go ahead.”

“The thing is… Erm, I need someone to play the piano to accompany me? Could you do it?”

“I guess? Let’s see what you got.”

The girl stands from her chair and hands a partition to Louis, before she goes to stand by the piano. It’s nothing he can’t handle really, but he feels slightly anxious at the idea of playing in front of Harry. He takes a sit at the piano and cracks his knuckles, the sound unpleasant even to his own ears, before he nods to his student.

Sakina has a beautiful voice, bright and clear, and the melody she wrote fits her perfectly. Louis gets lost in the music, his fingertips flying over the piano keys with ease. Playing piano is like riding a bike to him. He never really forgot it, and once it comes back to him, instinct takes over.

Playing reminds Louis of late afternoons at his Mum’s house, when she was too weak to move and asked Louis to play for her. He could never say no to his Mum, especially back then when they both knew her time was limited and these moments were the last they could spend together. So he played until his fingers hurt, the notes on his partition becoming a blur. It’s overwhelming to think about this period of his life, he always gets mixed feelings about it. It hurts thinking of his Mum, but the smile on her face and the way she looked at him as he played warms his heart like nothing else.

Louis plays the last notes, heart in his throat at the memories invading his mind, but he grits his teeth and fights the tears away. He glances up at Sakina, who’s watching him with hopeful eyes and he offers his brightest smile as he lets pride take over.

“This is amazing, love. You did great.”

“Thank you, Mister Tomlinson.” She says, beaming.

Louis hands over the partition and turns on the piano stool, facing his students.

“We have ten minutes left, so what did you guys think?”

A couple of students make interesting comments on how the song can be improved, and soon enough the school bell signals the end of the lesson.

“Okay, so for our next lesson, I want you to bring a poem that means something to you. You will have to explain why, so don’t pick one last minute.”

There are a few groans from the teenagers not willing to put up with extra homework, but many faces light up at the idea of bringing something personal and meaningful to class. The teenagers slowly gather their stuff and Louis reminds them to read, write and listen to music as much as they can.

“Excellence is a habit people, so keep practicing. Also don’t forget that I’m the only one qualified to say if something you wrote is bad.”

 

As the students slowly leave the room, Harry stands up from his spot and walks up to the stage. He takes a seat beside Louis, who’s still sitting at the piano, caressing the keys almost religiously. Harry bumps his shoulder with Louis’, and Louis peers up at him.

“That was amazing, Lou.” Harry says. “You’re so great with them.”

“Thanks.” Louis says lowly, a slight blush creeping up on his face.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano.”

“I’m not particularly good but I like playing from time to time.” Louis says shrugging.

“Would you play something for me?” Harry asks, hopeful. “Maybe something you wrote?”

Louis hums, searching his mind for something he knows he can play from beginning to end. If playing in front of Harry during class made him nervous, now that he’s sitting so close to him, watching him with soft eyes gleaming with anticipation, Louis finds it even more difficult. He purposely ignores the growing knot in his stomach.

_It’s just Harry, Tommo. Chill._

“Okay, um. Don’t judge, okay? I wrote this like ten years ago. It was supposed to help Lottie sleep. Some kind of lullaby.”

Harry nods, a big smile plastered on his face.

Louis exhales deeply and closes his eyes. Harry’s fingers stroke over the dimples on Louis’ back, his hand going under his shirt and Louis shudders at the sensation. He tries his best not to be distracted but Harry isn’t making it easy for him. Louis has been craving for Harry’s touch since the Halloween party and the slightest touch sets his skin ablaze.

[Louis plays the song by memory](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RWXu8KBU7A), and the music fills the room once again. The soothing tune easily comes back to him. He’s played this song so many times, he doesn’t even need to think about it. His eyes are still closed but he can feel Harry getting closer, the warmth emanating from his body enveloping him. Harry smells good, he always does, but Louis is sure he washed his hair after his run this morning because the scent of apple and cinnamon is stronger than usual, filling his nostrils in the most pleasant way.

Harry rests his chin on Louis’ shoulder, his hand still moving against Louis’ heated skin and Louis gulps. Harry places a soft kiss on it, and his hand comes on Louis’ thigh, slowly sliding to his crotch.

“Harry…”

Harry hums, but he doesn’t remove his hand. He squeezes Louis’ inner thigh as he keeps peppering kisses all over his clothed shoulder. Louis gives up on the playing, and turns slightly on the stool, his frame almost facing Harry. The angle allows Harry to press kisses against his throat, and as he starts nipping right under Louis’s ear, he lets out a sinful moan.

Louis cards one of his hands through Harry’ hair, enjoying the fact that he hasn’t cut them since they met. At this length, the curls are slowly taking over and Louis loves it so much, it’s absurd. He swirls his finger around one of them and pulls gently. The gesture makes Harry grunt against his skin.

“I wish I didn’t have to meet with Gem.” Harry whispers as he squeezes Louis’ thigh again.

“Yeah, me too.” Louis says, a little breathless. “But either way, there’s another class soon, we have to leave.”

Harry glances up, his green eyes a shade darker than usual, and a hundred butterflies flap their wings in Louis’ stomach.

“Who knew me playing the piano would be such a turn on for you, Styles.” Louis says amused.

“Everything about you is a turn on for me, it’s annoying really.”

Louis brings his fingers to Harry’s lips, his brain screaming at him to feel them plump and pink under his fingertips. Harry closes his eyes and circles Louis’ wrist, keeping his hand to his mouth as he bites his fingers playfully. Louis gulps, eyes set on Harry intensely. His cock is definitely showing interest in his pants.

“Fuck.” Louis says as he retrieves his hand from Harry’s hold. “Don’t do this, otherwise I’m going to come in my pants.”

Harry laughs and lets his head rest on Louis’ shoulder, a small smile on his face.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to… You know… Do it again after Halloween but this,” he says as his hand presses against Louis’ crotch, “makes me believe that you do.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Louis retorts “We’ve been all over each other for a while now. What more do you need?”

“I don’t know… You kept rejecting me when I tried to-”

“I don’t want to do this at work.” Louis cuts in. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“You never let me kiss you.” Harry points out.

“That’s because we’re not a couple. I don’t go and kiss people I casually have sex with.”

“Okay. Makes sense.” Harry hums. “You should have told me, though. I need to know the rules to the game if I wanna play.”

Louis chuckles and slightly pinches Harry’s thigh. “Well, that’s rule number one.”

“What else?” Harry inquires curiously.

Louis taps one finger against his chin, his eyes staring at the ceiling. “This is our thing, so I’d rather we keep it to ourselves. Obviously at some point I’m gonna have to tell Zayn because he knows me too well, and I don’t think he’d appreciate to be kept in the dark. So I guess you can tell Niall if you want to?”

“Okay.” Harry nods. “Do I have to sign something or?” Harry asks playfully.

“Don’t be stupid.” Louis says as he rolls his eyes at him, a small smile on his lip. “I just think it’s better to have ground rules to keep this … ‘thing’ simple.”

“You got yourself a deal, Tomlinson.” Harry says as he extends his hand.

“One more thing.” Louis says.

“Hum?” Harry drops his hand on his lap, watching Louis with curious eyes.

“If anything changes, like… I don’t know, if you meet someone you actually fancy? Or if you feel at some point that you want more, you’ll have to say something. Complete honesty, yeah?”

“Of course.” Harry replies firmly. There’s no hesitation, no quiver in his voice as he says it, “Same for you.” he adds.

“Of course.” Louis nods.

They shake hands, small grins on both their faces and Louis hums contently, happy with the outcome of their conversation. He doesn’t know if other people have it so easy when it comes to being friends with benefits, but Harry always makes things simple, and Louis really likes that about him.

“Come on, Styles, let’s go.” Louis says, his hand still clutching Harry’s as he stands up from the piano stool. “You have lunch with your sister and I’m meeting with Zayn. Let’s move.”

They part ways in front of The Institute with a quick hug, and as Harry takes a left turn to the nearest tube station, Louis turns right. He’s got some time before he has to meet with Zayn so he decides to walk to the studio, despite the harsh November weather. His hands are cold and he curses himself for not bringing gloves with him, but there’s a warmth settled in his belly after his conversation with Harry. He feels lightheaded and happy, something he hasn’t truly experienced for a while when he comes to think of it.

 

Louis arrives at Zayn’s studio an hour later with a bag filled with Nando’s greasy delights, the smell of fried chicken quickly filling the space. He hasn’t seen Zayn since the party, and he’s glad to have some alone time with his best friend. Louis enters the studio without knocking, and he unceremoniously drops the takeaway bag on the counter table by the couch.

He hears the flush of a toilet, and a minute after, [Zayn](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/171483696806/keepingupwithzayn-penshoppe-all-on-zaynmalik) appears from the bathroom of the studio, a wide grin on his face.

“You brought Nando’s!” Zayn says as he wraps Louis in a hug. “You’re the best.”

“I know, no need to remind me.” Louis replies smugly.

They sit on the sofa and start on the food eagerly, and Zayn moans at the first bite of his extra spicy chicken wrap. Amy Winehouse’s last album is playing in the background, and Louis quietly enjoys the feeling he gets every time he listens to her soothing voice. Zayn is not an hardcore fan of hers as Louis is, and he knows Zayn put the record on for Louis. He can’t help but smile fondly at him.

“So, how have you been doing since the party?” Zayn asks as he makes a ball out of his warper’s foil.

“Great. Fantastic. You?”

“Good.” Zayn pauses, a suspicious look on his face. “Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“What do you mean?” Louis says. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t help fidgeting with the hem of his shirt nervously as he glances down to his lap.

“I don’t know, just curious.”

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Come on, Lou.” Zayn says, a bit annoyed.

“What?” Louis says, feigning ignorance.

“Okay, you want me to spell it out for you, fine.” Zayn clasps his hands together, and Louis doesn’t like where this is going already. “I’ve found a condom wrapper in my office after the party. You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

Louis freezes and stares at Zayn with wide eyes, and fuck. There’s no way he can make his way around that one. Zayn is looking at him with a slight close-lipped smile, and he doesn’t break eye contact as he leans against the plump sofa, putting his hands behind his head.

“I’m waiting, Lou.”

“Oh my god.” Louis murmurs horrified, his face hidden behind his hands. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t planning on it, it just happened and- Oh, god, don’t be mad at me.”

“It’s okay.” Zayn chuckles. “I mean, that couch has seen a lot of things over the years, you know.”

Louis scoffs and drops his hands on his lap, but he’s still mortified. He was convinced that Zayn hadn’t figured it out, since he didn’t say a word when they talked on the phone after the party. Apparently, Zayn was waiting to ambush him in person.

“I expect you to tell me what happened now.” His best friend says with a sly smile.

“I had sex with Harry.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Zayn rolls his eyes.

“It’s just… He’s so hot, and I’m weak, and I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen, at least not at your place but...” Louis pouts. “It just happened.”

“It’s about time, really. I mean, the eye fucking at the party was so obvious, I think everybody caught it.” Zayn chuckles. “Are you guys, like a thing now?”

“Of course not!” Louis replies, like the idea is ridiculous. “It’s nothing serious. We’re just having fun.”

“Okay…” Zayn says, clearly unconvinced.

“I mean, we talked about it, and we agreed this is just casual. We’re not ‘a thing’.” Louis air quotes, using Zayn’s words.

“Okay… Be careful though.”

“What do you mean?”

Zayn shrugs, and takes two cigarettes out of the pack lying on the table, and offers one to Louis who gratefully accepts. Zayn takes his time to light it up and hands the lighter to Louis. Louis can practically see the wheels turning in Zayn’s mind. Louis frowns, it’s so not like his best friend to take precautions with him, like he’s afraid to say something that would make Louis run for the hills.

“I’ve never really believed in the whole friends with benefits thing to be honest.” Zayn confesses. “Someone always gets hurt, or it turns into something more. It usually has an expiration date.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Zee. It’s not like I’m going to fall for him. You know me.” Louis tries to assure him.

“If you say so. I trust you to do what’s best for you.” Zayn says with a small smile. There’s something in his eyes though, an apprehension Louis doesn’t quite understand, but he chooses to ignore it.

“Anyway.” Louis says, eager to change the subject. “You said you had good news when we spoke on the phone. So spill, Malik.”

“I do!” Zayn perks up. “You know the open mic session we threw with Niall last week?”

Louis nods, and he crashes the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray, waiting for Zayn to elaborate. He didn’t get to attend the second open mic night since he had to work, but from what he heard from Zayn, the night went as smoothly as the first one.

“Niall invited a couple of representatives from small labels, and one of them wants to work with Rose and another one of my students.”

“You’re kidding? That’s amazing, Zee! Congrats!”

“Thanks, man. I didn’t do anything really, but I’m really happy for them. Could be a huge opportunity.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Louis says enthusiastically. “We should celebrate!”

Zayn grins at that and reaches out for Louis, who automatically scoots closer to wrap Zayn in a hug.

“I’m really proud of you.” Louis says as he squeezes Zayn’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Lou.” Zayn murmurs against Louis’ neck.

“So what should we do?” Louis asks as he pulls away. “Classic night at the pub? Oooh, let’s go dancing!”

“Really?” Zayn says skeptically.

“Yeah! Let’s have a lads night, it’ll be fun!”

“Let’s invite Niall and Harry.” Zayn proposes. “After all, Niall did all the work, he deserves to celebrate too.”

Louis pauses for a second, but eventually nods in consent. This could be an opportunity to finally bring Harry home with him.

“Yeah, okay… Saturday’s good for you?”

“Perfect.” Zayn beams, and tightens his grip on Louis, before adding, “Fancy a Fifa game? I brought my Xbox yesterday, thought we could have a match before I have to go back to work.”

Louis disentangles himself from Zayn and rubs his hands together, a challenging expression taking over his features.

“Prepare to have your arse kicked, Malik.”

Zayn scoffs but doesn’t say anything as he gets up to power his console.

 

***

Louis can hear the music blaring in the club as he waits in line with Zayn on Saturday night. It’s freezing outside, and Louis can’t help but shiver despite being pressed against Zayn, who has an arm wrapped around him, frictioning his body energetically to create warmth. When they finally reach the front, they quickly pay for the club fees, and the girl behind the counter presses an inked pad on their wrists, so they can exit the club and have a smoke without being charged again.

It takes a minute for Louis’ eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness of the gigantic room and the difference in temperature, but the music is good and he unconsciously starts shaking his hips to the beat as they breach the crowd to get to the bar.

Louis shoots a quick text to Harry to let him know he’s arrived, and less than two minutes later, Harry and Niall appear out of nowhere, cheeks already tinted pink and sweat forming on both their foreheads.

“Guuuys ! Hey!” Harry shouts to be heard over the music. “You made it!”

“Hey, Harold!” Louis shouts back. “Sorry, we’re late. Zayn took forever to get ready.”

Lies, all lies. It’s Louis who made Zayn wait for a good hour before he was ready to leave his flat, too busy with finding the perfect club night outfit. Eventually, he opted for black skinny jeans, a slim fit shirt with the words ‘not heartbroken’ embroidered on the front pocket, and a pair of Vans. He’s just glad Zayn is too busy talking to Niall to pick up on the false excuse.

They order cocktails and a round of shots, before finding a booth in a secluded corner of the club where the music is not as loud as it is on the dancefloor. They cling their drinks together and chat amongst themselves, laughing and drinking. Harry is sitting beside Louis, his thigh pressed against his and his hand never leaves Louis’ body, whether it’s pressed against his knee or settled in the crook of his back. Louis purposely ignores the looks Zayn throws at him; they suspiciously look like the ones Niall kept giving the pair at the halloween party.

 _Nosy bastards, both of them,_ Louis thinks _._

Niall is a phenomenon, Louis kind of gathered that already, but tonight he is particularly loud and cheery and he makes Louis laugh until his abs hurt. He takes a second to appreciate how lucky he is to have the boys in his life, Zayn a constant since forever and Niall and Harry a great addition to their duo. They all have lots in common, and they never get short of topics to breach, whether it’s music, art or traveling. They just all fit together seamlessly.

At some point, the DJ plays a remix of Dua Lipa Louis never heard and Harry squeezes his hand.

“Dance with me?” He whispers into Louis’ ear.

Louis nods frantically, and slides down the booth to get to the dancefloor, with Harry pressed against his back. They start dancing to the beat, and Harry lets his hands roam all over Louis’ body, his face buried in the crook of his neck. Harry’s breath feels hot against his skin, and Louis presses against him eagerly.

“You shouldn’t do that unless you plan on taking me home.” Harry says huskily.

“Funny you say that, because that’s exactly what I have in mind.” Louis responds as he turns his head slightly.

Harry is staring at him with hungry eyes and brings his fingers to Louis’ mouth forcing him to release his lip from his teeth, something Louis didn’t even realise he was doing. Harry leans in, and catches his lower lip between his teeth playfully, and even though it’s not a real kiss, it sets Louis’ skin on fire.

“Let’s have one last drink with the boys and leave, okay? I need you out of these clothes as soon as possible.” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear.

Louis nods as he grinds purposely on Harry, a mischievous smile on his face before he’s being dragged to their booth.

Niall and Zayn are still there when they sit down, and from what Louis understands, they’re debating whether or not they should go for a third round of shots - Niall is scandalised when Zayn says they shouldn’t - when Louis spots a familiar face in the crowd. The man is dancing alone near the dancefloor, his drink threatening to spill any second, and Louis is pretty sure he knows that guy from somewhere. He gets up from the booth, and leave the boys to themselves.

“I’ll be right back.” He says when Harry grabs his wrist to stop him. Harry frowns childishly and pouts, but he lets go of Louis’s wrist anyway. Louis makes his way to the man, and lightly taps on his shoulder to get his attention. When he turns around, something clicks.

“Hey man! Sorry to bother but you’re Max, right?”

“Louis!” The guy shouts before wrapping his arms around Louis. “How are you, man? It’s been ages!”

Louis smiles and returns the hug before stepping back. Max was one of the interns at Rollings Stone magazine, and even though they didn’t work together, they were good pals. The other interns didn’t smoke and so they bonded over their addiction to nicotine, sneaking out to take breaks together when the editor in chief wasn’t around.

“I’m good, great even. What about you?” Louis says.

Max points out his ear dumbly, but the message comes across. Louis leans in and says, “Smoke?”

Max nods eagerly as he wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders, and they make their way toward the exit. Louis breathes in deeply when they’re finally out, the fresh air a welcomed sensation after spending so much time in the heated club.

He takes two cigarettes out of his pack and offers one to Max, who takes it before lighting the cigarettes for the both of them.

“So, how have you been? Still at the Stone?” Louis asks.

“Nah, man. Left years ago! I work for a smaller magazine now. It’s good, less pressure.” Max says.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and breathes out, the white smoke forming a little cloud above their heads. “I know you’re still working at HD, I read your articles. You’re killing it, man.” Max says with an impressed expression. “Not surprising, though. You were one of the most talented writers, even back then.”

Louis tilts his head shyly. “Thanks.” Louis taps on his cigarette, the ash falling to his feet. “Heard anything from the others?”

Max shakes his head. “You know how it is. Once you leave, people don’t keep in touch.”

“Yeah, I know.” Louis scoffs. Back then, he was sure he would stay friends with the other interns, since they all dealt with the same shit from their boss and stuff, but it never happened. People go their own way, make new acquaintances, and sooner than later they just stop calling. _It is what is_ , Louis thinks.

“Heard a good one about Declan though.” Max says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

And, okay. Louis’s attention is peaked. He hasn’t heard the name in years but from the look on his former friend, he assumes Max thought as well as the other members of the staff that he and Louis had a thing going.

“What about him?” Louis says nonchalantly.

“Well, when you left I had two months to go before the end of my contract with the Stone, and so we worked together a bit. Things turned pretty shitty for him once you left. He was always missing deadlines, and apparently his pieces were far from great. And like, maybe a week before I left? The boss calls him in his office, and even with the door closed, you could hear him shout like a madman, something about ethics and copyright. The moron had plagiarised an article and the author threatened to drag the magazine to court!”

“No way.” Louis gasps. “What an idiot!”

“Right? Fucking moron, I tell you. Never liked him.” Max scoffs. “You guys were close, right?”

“Hum, yeah, we were. Until he fucked me over to get a position at the magazine.”

“I kinda suspected it. Rumours in the halls, you know?”

Louis hums against his cigarette but doesn’t push it; he doesn’t want to waste any more breath on Declan. _He’s not worth it_ , Louis thinks, _never has been_.

“Anyway, what about you? Married, kids? Tell me everything.”

Louis and Max stay a bit longer outside, chain smoking and sharing old memories and new anecdotes until Louis realises they’ve been out for half an hour.

“Let’s go back inside, my friends must think you kidnapped me.”

“You go. I’m gonna head home, but he was great to see you again, Louis. I’m happy you’re in a good place.”

“You too.” Louis responds with a genuine smile.

 

Back in the club, Louis spots Harry and Niall at the bar, deep in conversation so he decides not to disturb and heads to their booth instead. Louis feels like the bass has been nestled into his heart, the beat almost painful against his chest. He slumps down beside Zayn, who’s checking his phone, probably texting with Gigi. When he feels the booth move beside him, Zayn peers up and watches Louis suspiciously.

“Finally! Where have you been?”

“Outside, smoking.”

“Without me?” Zayn squawks, one hand against his heart.

“Came across an old friend. We used to work at Rolling Stone magazine together. We had a lot of catching up to do.”

“That’s nice.” Zayn says. “By the way, Harry is wasted.”

Louis laughs. “And? He deserves to have some fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll give him a good time once we’re out of here.” Zayn says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Shut up. ” Louis guffaws loudly. “If he’s as drunk as you say, I’m just going to take him home.”

Zayn shrugs but he’s smiling mischievously. “Yeah, right!”

“I’m gonna check on them, see if they’re ready to go.”

Zayn gives Louis a thumbs up. “I’m going to go, Gigi wants to come by. Call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but text me when you’re home.” Louis sends Zayn a kiss and dances his way toward the bar. He’s almost reached it when a hand grabs his wrist and pulls slightly to make him stop. Niall is definitely drunk, his eyes glassy and his hair a mess.

“Can I talk to you for a sec, Lou? Won’t be long.”

“Okay…” Louis says, surprised. “Where is Harry?”

“Bathroom.”

“Alright... what’s going on?” Louis asks as he steps away from the crowd and into a corner. The music is still obnoxiously loud, and Niall is shouting in his ears, making him wince.

“I know it’s none of my business but ...Okay, I just want you to know that Harry is my best friend, okay. I love him. Almost as much as much as I love Nando’s and that’s saying something.”

Louis laughs at that because even in the inebriated state, Niall is still the funniest.

“And I think that if you are lucky enough to have caught his attention, then you shouldn't let him go."

 _What the hell is he talking about?_ Louis thinks, startled.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think you are a good lad. And because Harry likes you, I can tell. As his best friend, it's my job to look after him. And I love to get into his business, rile him up a little bit.”

“Okay…” Louis drawls. “I think you should go home Niall, drunk you is going soft on me.”

Niall yawns at that and nods, eyes snoopy already.

“You’re right, I better go. Take care of H, Lou! I’m counting on you!” He adds as he walks away.

Right. So now, he has to find an apparently very drunk Harry. Splendid. He’s making his way towards the bathroom when he spots him at the bar, drinking a shot of green liquor Louis wouldn’t approach within ten feet. Harry puts down the shot and starts dancing, his head lolling back and forth to the music with his eyes closed. His flower printed shirt is barely buttoned and Louis can spot alcohol stains on his jeans. Harry looks like a mess.

“You are wasted, Styles.” Louis says once he’s by his side.

“No, I'm not!” Harry answers indignantly. His features soften perceptibly when his eyes set upon Louis. “You’re so pretty, Lou.” Harry pouts indignantly, as if Louis’ face was offending or something.

“Let’s get you home, H.”

Harry pouts again, and Louis’ attention is immediately drawn to those sinful lips.

“Harry…” Louis pleads, batting his eyelashes at him.

“Alright.”

 _I win_ , Louis thinks.

“You owe me, Styles.”

Harry giggles, and Louis takes his hand, leading them towards the exit and out into the freezing London night. Harry is barely standing up on his own two feet, and so he clutches on Louis’ arm tightly, his face nestled in the crook of Louis’ neck. Louis is having a hard supporting him, but he uses all the energy he has left to direct them to the taxis lined up in front of the club, waiting for drunk party goers to get a lift home.

Harry is pressed against Louis during the whole ride, whistling something Louis doesn't recognise, until Harry breaks the silence.

“Who was he?”

“Huh?”

“The guy you left with. Who was he?” Harry slurs.

“Why? You’re jealous?”

“No!” Harry says indignantly. “Just curious.”

Louis laughs softly, and he cards one hand through Harry’s hair. Harry relaxes instantly and purrs against Louis.

“We used to work together. Haven’t seen him in years.” Louis says.

“Oh. Okay.”

They stay silent after that, Louis’ hand still ruffling gently Harry’s hair, and he would have missed the whisper comment if he wasn’t so attuned to all things Harry.

“I missed you, is all. You said we were leaving and then you disappeared on me.”

Louis tightens his grip on Harry and presses his lip on the crown of Harry’s head, and Harry exhales deeply against him, his hand slipping between Louis’ thigh possessively.

 _You have nothing to worry about,_ Louis thinks.

 

Twenty minutes later, they are in front of Harry's building, and Louis is reminded of how annoying it is to take care of someone when they’re drunk. If Harry stayed on his best behaviour as long as they were in the taxi, he seemed to have no care in the world for his surroundings now. He is singing, no, _shouting_ a song Louis has never heard, but from what he understands, Harry is having a baby, and it's none of his business. Okay.

“I swear to god, Styles, if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to strangle you.”

“What, you don't like my song?” Harry giggles.

Harry puts all his weight on Louis for support, his chest plastered to Louis’ back, and his hands keep sliding up and down Louis’ arms.

But then, something clicks in Louis’ head.

“What do you mean, your song? You wrote this?”

“Hell yeah, I did! Did you think your perfect Zayn is the only one who can make music?! I can make music too!”

He starts singing again, and Louis regrets asking. Why can’t he just shut his mouth sometimes? The neighbours are going to call the police if Harry doesn't shut it down.

Eventually, Louis manages to buzz them in and Harry's building has a lift. _Thank God_ , Louis thinks. This whole charade doesn't have to be even more painful. Harry is sober enough to press what Louis hopes is the right button, and they come out of the lift unscathed, meaning Harry hasn't puked on Louis yet.

Harry manages to find his keys in his way too skinny jeans, and hands them over to Louis. He lets his entire body rest on Louis, and yes, maybe he is tempted to step aside just a little bit to watch him fall on his bum. He doesn't.

Once they are in the apartment, Harry doesn't spare Louis a glance and goes straight to what must be his room, leaving Louis to find his way around the darkness of the flat. Harry needs some Advil and a bottle of water by his nightstand if he wants to look somewhat alive the next day, so Louis goes to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. He can't help but laugh a little when he sees the kale, a homemade bottle of pink smoothie - strawberry and basil scribbled on the plastic container - and a bouquet of broccoli amongst other things. Harry really is a health freak.

Louis finds the bathroom by the end of the corridor leading further into the flat - which is huge, Louis notices - and he finds some Advil in the cabinet above the sink. He hurriedly makes his way toward Harry’s bedroom and when Louis finally enters Harry's room, the man is sprawled on his bed, fully clothed. He’s still singing, at a reasonable volume now, and Louis can’t make out the words, but he makes a mental note to ask Harry what the song is about later.

“Harry...” He says, tapping the other man's shoulder gently. ”Come on, just take these so I can leave.”

Harry is lying on his front, his answer muffled by the pillow he is clutching tight against his face. All Louis can see is the tip of his ear.

“Harry, please, I'm tired. I want to go home.”

Louis' pleading tone must do something, because Harry slowly, oh so slowly turns his head. He has a boyish look on his face, and Louis wonders how a guy wearing such sinful clothes on such a sinful body can look so innocent at times.

Harry finally sits up on the edge of his bed, looking like he hasn't slept in days. He takes the Advil from Louis and gulps down half of the water bottle in one go. Louis releases a breath of relief. His work is done, he can now go without feeling guilty for abandoning this annoyingly attractive man to himself.

Louis is about to turn on his heels when Harry gently grabs his right wrist. Louis freezes on the spot; he watches Harry draw small, smoothing circles on his wrist. He hopes Harry doesn't feel his heartbeat accelerate at the point of contact.

“Lou?”

“Yes, Harold ?”

“Could you stay with me? Please?”

Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes, because honestly, what is this? But then, he glances down and all he can see is Harry's big green eyes full of hope. Louis thinks to himself that he should have added another rule to their agreement - no sleepovers, please and thank you - but he’s exhausted and his flat is so far away from Harry’s that he can’t find it in himself to refuse the offer.

“Move over, you big giant.” Louis finally says as he takes off his jacket.

“Biiiig and giiiiant. Redundant, Lou. Re-dun-dant!” Harry slurs.

“Shut up or I'm leaving.”

Harry lets out a loud “nOOoOo” before falling down on his bed to let Louis get settled next to him. They get rid of their shoes but don't bother to take off their clothes, the exhaustion taking over them both.

They lie by their side, watching each other for a moment when suddenly, Harry moves so Louis is spooning him. Louis tries to resist, huffs and puffs but Harry is stronger than him despite his inebriated state. Louis doesn't know what to do with his left hand, so he settles it on Harry's hips. Harry takes Louis' hand and places it over his heart, forcing him to properly cuddle, before he gently tangles his fingers with Louis’.

“Thanks for tonight. You didn't have to.”

“Yeah, well, they say I'm a great guy. Let's pretend it never happened.”

“But it did, though.” Harry whispers sleepily.

“Don’t mention it, Styles.” Louis whispers back. “It’s my pleasure to drag your drunk arse to safety.”

Harry chuckles softly but doesn’t respond, he simply squeezes Louis’s hand tight for a second. Exhaustion must finally take over Harry, because soon enough Louis feels his body relax against his own. After only a few minutes, Louis can hear little snores from the other man. It's not until he is 100% percent sure Harry is sound asleep that he dares to whisper, “You’re welcome, H”.

After that, he falls asleep pressed against Harry, with a soft smile on his face.

 

_He worked his way through a cheap pack of cigarettes_

_Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect_

_And all the boys, they were saying they were into it_

_Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck_

 

 

The next morning, Louis wakes up in an empty bed that is definitely not his, and it takes him a minute to recall he stayed at Harry’s last night. He rolls around lazily in the sheets, his throat feeling itchy from all the cigarettes he smoked but he’s not feeling particularly hungover, which is a miracle, what with all the shots and cocktails he drank last night. His jeans and tee shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin though, and he’s aching for a hot shower and fresh clothes.

His stomach growls loudly, and as he slowly sits up, he can hear music coming from somewhere in the flat. Louis grabs his phone on the nightstand - he remembers putting it there in the middle of the night when it dug uncomfortably into his bum - and fuck, it’s noon already.

Louis drags his body out of the room and follows the music. Harry is in the kitchen, cooking what seems to be a massive breakfast and Louis’ stomach grumbles at the scent of bacon and pancakes.

Harry is whistling while he cooks, sweatpants riding low on his hips but no shirt on. His hair is slicked back and damp, with drops of water sliding down his back, and Louis’ mouth waters at the sight of him. He clears his throat loudly and Harry twirls on his spot, a pink spatula in one hand and the other on his hip.

“Good morning.” He says with a smile.

“Good morning, Harold.” Louis answers as he comes closer.

He takes a seat at the counter and watches Harry move around his kitchen with ease, head still lolling to the music playing in the background. Harry is all chirpy this morning but the dark circles under his eyes shows how tired he really is, and Louis wonders how much he had to drink while he was gone outside with Max last night.

“Are you alright?” Louis asks with a frown.

“Just hungover, really. Nothing a good breakfast cannot fix.”

They stay silent after that, Harry finishing up with the eggs and Louis checking the news on his phone. Eventually, Harry hands Louis a plate and a cup of tea, and Louis sighs happily as he starts digging into his food.

“This is incredible, H.” Louis says with his mouth half-full. “Didn’t know you could cook.”

The bacon is crispy exactly how Louis likes it, his scrambled eggs are fluffy and the pancakes are melting in his mouth. Louis is in heaven, and he makes a show out of every bite, making Harry smile with satisfaction.

“I don’t know if making eggs and pancakes is actually considered cooking but I gladly take the compliment.” Harry sits by Louis’ side, a deep dimple appearing on his left cheek. Louis is very tempted to poke at it.

“You got plans today?” Harry says as he digs into his food.

“Nope.” Louis says. “Why?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to stay? We could watch a movie or something?”

“Or something.” Louis wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yeah…” Harry says, a grin tugged at his lips.

They stare at each other intensely and Louis’ breath stutters when Harry squeezes his thigh under the table. Louis covers his hand with his and squeezes back, a sly grin on his lips.

“I could use a shower though.” Louis adds. “I stink.”

“Of course. You can even borrow clothes if you want to. I imagine you don’t want to put those on again.” Harry says, pointing Louis’ outfit.

“Yeah, I hate wearing dirty clothes after a shower. Sounds counterproductive.”

Harry smiles softly, and retrieves his hands from Louis’ hold before standing up.

“Finish this up, I’m going to find you some clothes and a clean towel.”

Louis nods gratefully and chows down the rest of his plate quickly, before putting it in the sink. Harry’s bathroom is at the end of the corridor next to the bedroom, and he finds clothes, a toothbrush and a clean towel neatly folded by the sink. The music has stopped, replaced by the TV, and Louis can discern clearly the opening credits of Peaky Blinders playing.

 _Good taste, Harold_. Louis thinks, before shedding his clothes and hopping into the shower.

Louis takes his time scrubbing himself thoroughly, the hot water pouring down effectively washing away the night before. The shower glass gets quickly covered by steam and he can’t help doodling on it, something he used to do when he lived with Zayn and that never failed to annoy him.

He gets out of the shower, brushes his teeth and puts on the sweatpants and the Pink Floyd tee shirt Harry left for him.

The first thing Louis sees when he enters Harry’s living room is the sofa in the middle of the room, where Harry is comfortably seated, eyes on the TV and a steaming cup of tea in hands. It’s certainly the ugliest couch Louis has ever seen in his entire life; it’s a huge, velvety, yellow abominable excuse for a sofa. He marches towards it, an amused smile on his face, and as he runs his palm on the cushions, Harry glances up at him. He must know Louis is not a fan because he grins at him, and motions for him to sit besides him.

“His name is Bernard and before you say anything, you have to try it.”

“You named this thing Bernard.” Louis deadpans.

Harry shrugs. “I like to name my things.” He gestures toward the table where he put down is camera, “this is Yvette, you two know each other. And this,” he points out his massive black and silver record player, “is Kate. We have lots of fond memories together.”

“You’re weird, Styles”

“Not weird, Lou. Eccentric maybe.” Harry bites back with a childish smile.

Louis chuckles but doesn’t sit beside Harry, he chooses instead to take a look around, something he couldn’t have done last night in the dark of the flat.

There are a dozen framed photographs on the walls, all of them in black and white. Louis takes his time looking at them, because it’s unmistakably Harry’s work, and it’s quite frankly beautiful. They’re different from the ones he published for HD, surely because they’re his own personal collection, and Louis enjoys getting a glimpse of what catches Harry’s eyes when it’s not for work but for his own pleasure.

There is a blurred one of a tattooed woman pushing a girl on a swing near the TV. Another one represents an old woman applying lipstick and standing on the right side of the frame in a close-fitting dress. She is lying against a concrete wall where someone wrote in big, bold letters «Welcome to LA, bitch ».

Another one, the only picture in colour, is of two women smiling at the camera, the blond one squeezing the brunette lady in a tight hug : the resemblance with Harry is unmissable really, and Louis presumes they must be Harry’s Mum and sister.

Louis is still looking at it when he feels Harry’s arms wrapping around his waist, his chin coming to rest on Louis’ shoulder.

“I took this one right before moving to Los Angeles. I didn’t know how often I was going to come back to England, and it felt important to have them with me somehow.”

“They’re really pretty.” Louis hums. “You guys look so much alike.”

“Does this mean you find me pretty?” Harry asks with a smile in his voice.

“Are you fishing for compliments?” Louis retorts.

Louis turns around to face Harry, and he places his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Harry tightens his grip on his waist but doesn’t reply. Instead, he buries his head in the crook of Louis’ neck and starts nipping at the skin below his ear, and Louis closes his eyes, sighing. He lets his hands roam on the expanse of Harry’s back, feeling the muscles appreciatively.

Harry’s hands slip under the hem of Louis’ sweatpants, and he squeezes his bum cheeks, an appreciative sigh escaping his lips. Before he knows it Harry is hauling him up, and Louis yelps in surprise, his legs instinctively wrapping around Harry’s hips as he clutches for dear life. He knew Harry was strong, but he never thought he’d like to be manhandled like this.

“Bedroom, Harold.” Louis pleads.

Harry huffs and digs his fingers into the flesh of his bum, making Louis squirm.

“Stop calling me Harold, Lou. Especially when you’re about to fuck me.”

“Sorry.” Louis chuckles. “Can’t help it.”

“I’m gonna make you shut up, you’ll see.”

They smile at each other wickedly for a few seconds, and Harry secures his hold on Louis and takes him to the bedroom effortlessly, like he weighs nothing at all. Louis huffs indignantly when Harry drops him on the bed unceremoniously, but all is forgiven when Harry takes off his shirt and crawls on the bed until he’s above Louis, hands flat on each side of his head.

Louis’ skin is on fire already and they haven’t done anything yet, he’s worried he’ll combust once he gets to be inside Harry. He spent the week craving this, and now Harry is looking at him with lustful eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face. Harry crashes their mouths together, and Louis is thriving. There’s urgency in the way they’re kissing, like they can’t get enough of each other, chapped lips gliding roughly against each others, teeth clashing, and warm tongues dancing in a playful motion. Louis’ hands come up to Harry’s head and he pulls at his hair, enough to make Harry wince in pleasure as he detaches his mouth from Louis’.

“Take your clothes off.” Harry growls as he sits on his heels.

“Why don’t you do it?” Louis challenges.

Harry licks his lips, eyes dark, and he takes off Louis’ sweatpants in one swift motion.

“No boxers.” Harry grins.

“You didn’t give them to me.”

“I know.”

Louis takes off his shirt and throws it on the floor carelessly, leaving him naked and writhing on Harry’s bed. Harry gets up to retrieve a condom and bottle a lube from his nightstand, and he takes off his sweatpants as well, along with this boxers. Louis doesn’t know if it’s because they had to wait patiently all week to finally be together but it feels like the whole world around them disappears when they’re together like this, and Louis silently thanks whatever god chose to put Harry in his path.

Soon enough, Harry’s body is covering Louis’ again and Harry starts latching onto Louis’ chest, his tongue sliding over the tattoo below Louis’ neck, one hand gripping hard at Louis’ thigh, enough so to leave bruises.

“Taste so good, Lou.” Harry says before biting harshly on a nipple.

Louis’ breath catches in his throat, hands buried in Harry’s hair, and he lets his eyes shut closed, his full body giving a shiver as Harry starts moving against him slowly but firmly, the friction making him hard in no time. The feeling is overwhelming really, and each slide of Harry’s hard cock against his makes Louis want more. He lets one of his hands travel down his back and as one finger slides between Harry’s cheeks, he can feel Harry tensing in anticipation above him, making Louis smirk.

“Lube, please.” Louis whispers in Harry’s ear. Louis bites his earlobe for good measure, making Harry squirm as his hand pats the bed in search of the bottle. Once Harry gets his hand on it, he opens it with his teeth and passes it to Louis who drops dollops on his fingers and goes back to the situation at hand.

Watching Harry while he’s being fingered is probably the sexiest thing Louis has ever witnessed. Harry is gritting his teeth, his strong jawline so defined that Louis can’t help but bite at it, and his whole body is tensing with pleasure. The moans escaping Harry’s lips are a pure symphony, and since they’re alone in the flat - not unlike last time - Louis takes his sweet time, teasing him until Harry’s breathing roughly, his chest blotched pink with arousal and his mouth hanging wide open. Louis has two fingers twisting and twirling inside Harry when he finally finds his spot, and Harry arches his back, a loud shout coming out of his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Keep doing that.” Harry slurs. “Please.”

“Your wish is my command, babe.” Louis says.

The pet name escapes him against his will, but Harry is so lost in the sensation of Louis’ fingers relentlessly pressing inside of him that Louis doesn't even think he catches it.

“How do you want it?” Louis asks, voice deep.

“I… On my side? I just… I want to do something first.”

“Tell me.” Louis says, with something authoritative in his voice.

“I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, yes, please.” Louis pleads.

Louis retrieves his fingers and crashes his lips against Harry’s, but Harry doesn’t let the kiss last. He crawls down Louis’ body, - there’s something feline in the way he moves - green eyes never leaving Louis’ face until he’s leveled up with Louis’ cock. Harry takes Louis in his mouth in a swift motion, his tongue swirling around Louis expertly, making him cry out in pleasure, his body arching with how good this feels. Louis levels himself up on his elbows to watch Harry take him down, like he was meant to do this.

“Your mouth, H.” Louis says in a breath. “Fuck.”

Harry chuckles softly around him, but he never stops, his mouth moving up and down Louis’ cock greedily like he can’t get enough of it. Harry presses one hand against Louis’ lower stomach to prevent him from bucking his hips up, the other hand sliding up Louis’ torso, until he finds a nipple, twisting the bud between his fingers.

As much as Louis likes to have Harry’s warm mouth around him, he doesn’t plan on coming like this so he pushes against Harry’s shoulder to make him stop.

“H, I’m gonna come.”

Harry finally lets go of his cock with a pop, his chin covered with saliva and precome, but he’s grinning and his eyes are gleaming mischievously. He crawls back up and kisses Louis thoroughly, his tongue exploring Louis’ mouth, before he lies down on his side. Harry takes a look over his shoulder, grin still in place as he watches Louis recover from what possibly was the best blowjob of his life.

“Well?”

Louis slaps his bum at the comment, making Harry squeak, and Louis marvels at the way Harry’s small bum bounces. Louis takes the condom and quickly opens it, before he slides it on his cock. Louis adds more lube on it to ease the slide and gets situated behind Harry, his breath evens as he parts Harry’s cheeks gently.

The second his cock catches Harry’s rim, they groan in unison. Louis slowly thrusts into his hole, one hand gripping Harry’s thigh firmly. The whole thing is messy, a mix of sweat and lube, but Louis couldn’t care less and when he finally bottoms out, Harry is shaking against him, his breath uneven, and one hands twisted into Louis’ hair.

“You good?” Louis utters, breathless.

“More than.” Harry stutters. “You can move.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice, and he starts thrusting, thighs shaking and heartbeat going wild. The sounds Harry makes are driving Louis crazy, he feels like he’s not entirely in control of his own body, but he keeps his thrusts slow and deep, until Harry pulls at his hair.

“Come on. You can do better than that.”

Louis gratefully accepts the challenge and he as he thrusts earnestly, the bed starts moving beneath them and Harry’s loud moan echoes through the room. Louis alternates between rolling his hips in a eight motion, and withdrawing almost completely before slamming back into Harry’s hole, and Louis knows he’s going to come soon. He doesn’t want to before Harry does though, so he lets go of Harry’s thigh and wraps his hand around Harry’s cock, gathering the precome at the tip before his hand can move up and down his cock.

Harry turns his head, the angle a bit awkward like this but enough for Louis to lean in and press his lips against Harry’s, the kiss is soft compared to the pounding, abrupt rhythm Louis has going. It’s enough to make Louis fall off the edge and he comes hard, panting against Harry’s mouth. Harry cries out when his orgasm hits him hard seconds later. They keep kissing sloppily through the daze, Louis’ hips still pressed against Harry’s, until Harry winces and Louis withdraws, one hand on his cock to keep the condom from slipping out. They fall on their back in a synchronized motion, and Louis presses a hand against his chest, his heart beating fast and his thighs shaking with exhaustion. He’s trying to catch his breath when Harry starts laughing beside him.

“What it is?” Louis asks with a smile, his face turned to the side so he can look at him.

“You fuck like a pro, Lou.” Harry says in a giggle.

“Well, thank you, I appreciate it.”

Harry turns his head, his eyes focused on Louis now, and they stay silent for a while, basking in the aftermath of their shared orgasm until Harry sits on the edge of the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Louis asks as he perches on his elbows.

“We need to clean up.” Harry says as he points his stomach, with come already drying on it. “I feel gross. And I need to change the sheets.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Louis wonders.

“Of course not! How about that movie? Still up for it?” Harry grins.

“Only if we order pizza later, and you let me choose the movie.”

“Deal.”

As Harry walks out of the bedroom, Louis lies down, hands behind his neck, a satisfied, smug grin on his face.

 

Much later in the day, when Louis has left Harry’s flat, he can’t get rid of the stupid smile etched on his face. The day turned out to be as perfect as one can be. After a well needed shower, they plopped down on Harry’s sofa and watched the first Harry Potter movie, debating on which house they’d get assigned to and drinking tea, the conversation flowing easily between them as always. Harry, being Harry, even gave Louis a foot massage at some point, and Louis rewarded him with a handjob, right there on the ugly yellow sofa. They ordered pizza and chicken wings and fed each other, giggling like teenagers when Louis smeared grease on Harry’s cheek, before licking it off Harry’s face like a kitten slurping on his bowl of milk.

The sun set early - nothing out of the ordinary since it’s November - but Louis was still surprised to see it was already past 9pm when he finally checked his phone for the first time in hours. Harry insisted on Louis keeping his clothes for the time being, and handed Louis a bag so he could put his clothes from the previous night in it. Louis tried to refuse, but Harry was not having it any other way.

“You told me earlier that you don’t like putting on dirty clothes, Lou. Just keep the clothes.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

Louis relented then, and as Harry opened the door to his flat to let him out, he gently leaned forward to kiss Louis, his eyes closing midway.

“What are you doing?” Louis said, one hand pressing against Harry’s chest, effectively stopping him from leaning further.

“Hum, saying goodbye?”

“And what did we say about kissing, H?”

“Oh come on.” Harry said, a bit of exasperation in his voice. “I thought you meant not in public, since we’re keeping this on the down low and all.”

“No.” Louis says with a drawl. “I meant no kissing.”

“Fine.” Harry replied, chin up. “Then no kissing during sex then.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Louis pouted at that, eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes fixed on Harry as he tried to determine whether or not he was being serious. Harry looked at him cockily, arms crossed against his chest, waiting for Louis to cave in.

“Fine.” Louis finally said with a huff. “You win. No kissing in public.”

“That’s more like it.” Harry chirped as he uncrossed his arms and dragged Louis against his body almost forcefully, their chests colliding against each other.

Harry put his hands on Louis’ cheeks as he proceeded to kiss him. His warm tongue breached Louis’ lips, licking into his mouth passionately, taking his breath away. When they finally broke apart, Harry was staring at Louis, smug and breathless as well. His head lolled slightly, like a child who managed to convince an adult to buy him that very expensive, very special toy against his better judgment. Louis definitely felt like he lost that match somehow, but he wasn’t particularly upset about it. After all, it’s not like kissing Harry is a chore, far from it.

And so now, sitting in the tube with his earphones on, the Harry Potter theme playing softly, Louis can’t help but wonder what Zayn would think if he knew exactly what this ‘thing’ with Harry is turning out to be. Which, really, should worry Louis more than it does, but he chooses to ignore the butterflies flapping their wings obnoxiously in the pit of his stomach.

  


	4. Chapter 4

The following weeks, Harry and Louis spend as much time as they can together, despite their schedules being annoyingly different, and they manage to establish a routine. After every show they cover together, - which is not a lot - they go to Louis’ flat ‘to have a drink’, but the second they pass the threshold, they crash against each other and Louis’ thirst is quenched in other ways, because who needs alcohol when they can have hot sex on any available surface of Louis’ flat?

What radically changes between them is that now that they’re clear on how they’re doing this, there’s no shyness or hesitation. If Harry texts Louis at one in the morning after a photoshoot that has to take place during nighttime and asks to come by, Louis answers right away. The fact that he stays awake later than usual in the hopes that Harry will call is not something Louis wants to dwell on.

One night, they are comfortably nestled on Louis’ couch, wearing nothing but their underwear after a particularly draining round of sex, munching silently on chips with guacamole and pineapple cubes. Clearly, Harry has somehow managed to corrupt Louis and converted him to his wicked, healthy ways, but Louis doesn’t mind as much as he claims he does. Watching Harry contently eating his food like it is the best meal he’s ever had is a gift in itself. Besides, with his abs on display, his hair growing so much that his rich brown curls fall on his forehead in the softest manner, Harry’s quite the sight to behold.

Harry is staring at Louis’ wall in contemplation when he positions himself sideways on the sofa, his legs crossed at the ankles so he can face Louis, who’s lazily half-lying against the armrest. Harry’s rings glint when they catch the light of the TV screen, and Louis wonders idly if there’s actually something extraordinary about this boy, or if it’s just Louis who now catches the smallest details about him.

“Why don’t you decorate your flat?” Harry asks bluntly.

“Never got around to it, I guess.” Louis replies nonchalantly, a piece of pineapple halfway through his mouth.

“There’s so much you could do with this place.” Harry pauses for a second as he looks around. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth when his gaze refocuses on Louis, and Louis wants to release it with a kiss.

“How about a couple of nice photographs to hang on your wall? Or, I don’t know, something to give it a bit of character?”

Louis shrugs; it’s not like he hadn’t planned on doing something about it.

“Don’t you want this house to feel like home?” Harry adds, genuine curiosity colouring his tone.

Louis stares at Harry with a frown, not sure where he is going with this.

“I’m sorry.” Harry says guiltily. “I’m sure this place feels like home to you, I didn’t mean to assume that you don’t … Anyway, it’s a great place, I love it. I just think you could do so much more with it.”

Louis nods, considering what Harry just said. Harry is fidgeting with his rings, and Louis leans forward so he can grab his hands to stop the nervous motion.

“I guess home, for me, is more of a person. We used to move a lot when I was younger and my Mum used to say that. It stuck with me, I suppose.”

“That… actually makes a lot of sense. I’ve never thought about it like that.” Harry says with a small smile.

“She chose the flat and pretty much everything in it, so I get what you mean. I could make it a bit more me.” Louis releases Harry’s hands and looks around, his eyes landing on the left white, immaculate wall of the living room. “I thought about asking Zayn to make art on this wall? Like some kind of cool graffiti or something? I don’t know. I’d have to stay elsewhere while it dries, I really don’t like the smell of paint when it’s too strong.”

“It’s a great idea.” Harry says with a smile. “If you choose to do it, you could always stay at mine for a couple of days. Or you could ask Zayn. Whatever.” Harry adds promptly.

“Thanks, Harold, I’ll keep that in mind.” Louis says, eyes crinkling. “Speaking of Zayn, he’s not really happy with us.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“He’s angry with you because apparently you take up all my time.” Louis says, grinning.

“Really, he’s angry with me?” Harry pouts.

“I’m kidding, you idiot.” Louis gently slaps Harry’s thigh, and he lets his hand rest there because he can. “But he’s got a point, you know? So I was thinking of having a lads night here? Niall would be invited too, of course.”

“Yes, it’s a great idea. I’ll ask Niall when he can be available.”

“Great.” Louis says, his hand squeezing Harry’s thigh.

Harry scrunches up his nose, his eyes fixed on Louis’ hand and when he glances up again, Louis’ stomach does a somersault, the same feeling he gets when riding a rollercoaster. He thinks to himself that Harry is a rollercoaster on his own, what with all the things he makes Louis feel. Harry is looking at him like he wants to eat him alive, his eyes squinting a bit as he licks his front teeth.

“Let’s stop talking about our mutual best friend, shall we?” Harry says huskily.

Harry crawls towards Louis with a devilish smile on his face, his eyes never leaving Louis until he’s comfortably seated on Louis’ lap, with his hands buried in the long strands at the nape of Louis’ neck.

“How about you teach me that thing you did the other day with your tongue, huh?” He says before he starts peppering Louis’ chest with light feathered kisses.

“We could do that.” Louis answers breathless.

Louis closes his eyes, his hands sliding up and down Harry’s toned arms when he’s hit with an unpleasant thought.

“H?”

“Huh huh?” Harry moans against one of Louis’ nipple, before taking the bud into his mouth and sucking lightly, making Louis wince.

“I don’t have any more condoms. We used the last one earlier.”

“Really?” Harry peers up at Louis, his chin pressed against Louis’ sternum, his mouth twisted in disappointment.

“Yeah… I could always go out and buy some? What time is it?”

Harry sits on the edge of the sofa then, grabbing his phone from the counter table and his eyes widen as he read the digits.

“Oh my god, is it seven already? Shit, I have to go, Lou. I have a meeting with Connor and the graphic team tomorrow and I haven’t started preparing it. I blame it on you, by the way.”

Louis ignores the jab. “ Really? You’re leaving?”

“I have to! Do you mind if I take a shower first?”

“No, of course not, but you’re sure you can’t stay?”

“I’m sure. Stop looking at me like that, okay? I have to go. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Harry stands up, and leans forward so he can press a kiss on Louis’ nose before walking to the bedroom with hurried steps - probably to retrieve his clothes - leaving Louis alone in the living room.

Louis knows he’s acting like a horny teenager, but he doesn’t want to let Harry go. He has no professional obligation, nothing planned for the night, because Harry was the plan. He’s starting to elaborate a plan to convince Harry to stay when he hears one door close and another one open. Louis licks his lips conspiratorially, a plan effectively forming in his mind as he gets up from the sofa.

Harry is bent over the sink, splashing his face with water when Louis enters the bathroom. Louis takes a second to appreciative the view and he doesn’t immediately notice Harry watching him with a smirk in the mirror above the sink.

“See something you like?” Harry says as he turns around.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Louis takes a step forward, and brushes his knuckles against the hard planes of Harry’s stomach, watching in awe as Harry’s body reacts immediately to the touch.

“Louis… I have to go.” Harry’s hands press against Louis shoulders nonetheless.

“I know… But what I have in mind shouldn’t take long, promise.” Louis whispers, his lips brushing against Harry’s Adam’s apple.

“Tell me, then.” Harry breathes out.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, and he switches their positions so Louis’ back is pressed against the sink. Louis hops on it, his legs bracketing Harry’s body.

 

There’s something Louis has always wanted to try but he never really got the opportunity. There’s a large mirror facing the sink, taking up most of the length of the wall, and as matter of fact he’d really like to watch Harry come undone as he sees himself in it.

Louis buries his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, and as he peppers Harry’s skin with soft kisses. Harry purrs, completely pliant under Louis’ touch, with his back pressed against Louis’ front. Louis slowly slides down Harry’s boxers until they fall at his ankles, before grabbing Harry’s cock in one hand, the other squeezing Harry’s hip to keep him in place.

“I want you to watch yourself come. You’re so hot when you come, H.” Louis moans in Harry’s ear, already turned on by the simple idea of what they’re about to do.

Harry nods frantically, but his eyes are still closed so Louis lets go of his hip to press his hand against his throat lightly, the motion causing Harry to open his eyes.

“You have to keep your eyes open, love. Please?”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry’s breath hitches.

Louis keeps his hand on Harry’s throat, and the other starts moving on Harry’s cock in long strokes, all the while keeping a close eye on Harry and the way his body reacts. Harry’s skin is hot under Louis’ palms, his chest and cheeks blotched pink and his thighs shake slightly. He’s biting his tongue and his pupils are completely blown out, his gaze fixed on Louis in the mirror.

“You look beautiful like this. So hot.” Louis says as he bites on his neck, before licking the mark.

Louis never stops his ministrations on him, his strokes are firm and slow, and there’s precome gathering at the tip. Louis gathers the drops as much as he can, making the slide much smoother now. Harry’s abs constrict when Louis goes faster, and he presses harder against Louis. Louis’ erection pushes against his bum.

“God, Lou, please.” Harry mumbles.” Don’t stop.”

“Not going to, babe.” Louis bites on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry’s back arches at one particularly harsh twist of Louis’ hand, but Louis is quick to pull him against himself with a hand against his chest.

“You look so wrecked, Lou.” Harry whispers.

“So do you, love.”

Their eyes meet in the mirror, green eyes meeting blue, and Harry smiles widely at him as he brings one hand to Louis’, their fingers entangling against Harry’s chest. Louis knew he’d particularly enjoy doing this to someone, but the fact that Harry responds to him like this, like he’s about to fall apart is better than he would have ever imagined.

Harry turns his face slowly to the side, his lips brushing against Louis’ cheek.

“Kiss me, please.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice as he closes the gap between their mouths. Harry’s bottom lip is trapped between Louis’, and Louis sucks lightly on it until Harry opens up and lets his tongue slide in. Louis’ hand speeds up on Harry’s cock, and a minute later, Harry comes with an obscene moan, partially muffled, his body slumping against Louis in exhaustion. Louis works him through it until Harry snatches his wrist away from his cock, his body trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm. Harry turns around and wraps his arms around Louis, forehead pressed against each other, both of them trying to calm their breathing.

“I’m glad I stayed.” Harry says with a chuckle.

Louis tightens his grip on him, and smiles, one of his hands pressing against his crotch as a whine escapes his lips.

“Shower with me.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “I’m taking care of that.” he adds, pointing Louis’ erection straining in his boxers. They hop into the shower together and when Louis comes five minutes later, with Harry on his knees, his warm mouth wrapped around Louis’ cock, Louis gets the fleeting thought that he’s never been this happy to not have protection lying around in his flat.

 

_Baby, let me be your man_

_So I can love you_

_And if you let me be your man_

_Then I'll take care of you, you_

_For the rest of my life, for the rest of yours_

_For the rest of ours_

 

A few days later, Louis is kissing Harry against the door leading to Harry’s small office in the back of the darkroom, hands feverishly roaming on each other’s bodies, when both of their phones chime with an email notification. Louis tries to stop what they’re doing to check it out, but Harry is having none of it, as he keeps Louis against him, his teeth biting at Louis’ neck and one hand pinning Louis’ wrists to the door .

“H, stop.”

“No.” Harry says, pouting against Louis’ throat.

“What if it’s important?”

“What can be more important than this?” Harry says with a chuckle.

Louis eventually manages to extricate himself from him, and Harry huffs as he falls on one of the darkroom stools, but he checks his phone as well, since Louis is cutting their make out session short for a bloody email. Turns out, the message is the same for both of them; it’s a calendar notification from Connor, who wants them to come by his office later in the day to discuss a new assignment.

“Do you know what it is?” Harry asks curiously as he locks his phone.

“No idea. But it’s safe to assume we’re going to do it together.” Louis grins.

Harry clasps his hand behind his neck, his long torso stretching deliciously under Louis’ gaze, and Louis purposely keeps a safe distance between them. He knows that if Harry gets his hands on him again, he’s not leaving the darkroom anytime soon.

“I’m going back to my office, there’s something I need to finish before we have to meet with Connor. See you later?” Louis says, taking two steps towards the door.

“Yep, see you then.” Harry replies as he waves Louis off.

 

Two hours later, they’re sitting in their boss’ office, waiting patiently for Connor to finish reading an important email. Once he’s done, he turns his full attention to them, his hands clasped together on his desk and a bright smile on his face.

“So, guys, let’s talk about this new assignment I’ve got for you.” Connor hands them both press release sheets and Louis perks up at the name written at the top of the file.

“I assume you both know that James Bay is releasing a new album. His team is organising a private showcase for the press in Manchester next week, and I want you two to cover it.”

Louis and Harry both nod, waiting for Connor to proceed.

“I know you are both familiar with how these things work, so I won’t go over the details. The press release contains all the stuff you’ll need to prepare the interview.” Connor adds before looking at Louis. “I thought you could take care of the travel arrangements and all that it entails, since Harry is not familiar yet with how we deal with business trips.”

“Of course.” Louis agrees easily.

“There’s one thing we have to discuss though, and I hope you won’t mind, but you both know that our budget is really tight these days.” Connor pauses, an upset frown on his face. “Would you mind sharing a room, boys? After assessing everything, I determined that’s the only expense we can reduce. Would that be okay?”

Louis purposely doesn’t look at Harry as he schools his expression into something neutral, thanking the drama classes he took when he was younger for making him such a good actor.

“Well, it’s not ideal, but I think we can manage. Right, Harold?” Louis says, eyes set on the the press sheet in his hands.

“As long as you don’t snore, I don’t see a problem.” Harry answers. If it wasn’t for the jittery way Harry’s legs keep moving beside him, Louis would say Harry is keeping it cool too. As if.

“Great!” Connor exclaims. “You know the drill, just keep all the receipts, train tickets, meals, everything, and bring all that to me when you get back in London.”

“One more thing before you go.” Connor adds as Louis and Harry stand up to leave. “Have you heard anything from the Fleetwood Mac’s team? Are we rescheduling or?”

“Their manager sent me an email a few days ago to apologise again, but for now, he hasn’t told me anything about a future interview.” Harry shrugs. “But I told him we still want to do something so he’s supposed to get back to me soon.”

“Great.” Connor says with a smile. “It’s not hot news anymore, but we can squeeze in a piece like this whenever, our audience love that kind of thing. Keep me in the loop.”

They exit Connor’s office after thanking him for the new assignment and saying goodbye, both of them excited at the prospect of a private James Bay concert. Louis keeps his thoughts to himself, but he’s also quite happy to spend two days out of the city with Harry, something they would have never done if not for professionals reasons.

 _It’s not a romantic escapade_ , Louis ponders, _just two colleagues covering a show_.

They’re about to part ways in the corridor leading to Louis’ office, Harry taking a different turn to get to the darkroom, when Harry stops in his tracks, effectively cutting Louis’ steps.

“Do you think he suspects something?” Harry asks in a hushed tone.

“Nah, he’s too busy running a high profile magazine to realise we’re fucking.” Louis says in the same manner.

“You’re probably right.” Harry laughs softly. “Unrelated but, hum, I talked to Niall earlier and if it’s okay with you, we can have our lads night on Thursday.”

Louis nods in agreement, and as he’s about to turn on his heels to go, Harry grabs his wrist and presses a light kiss at the pulse point. “Let’s just hope he and Zayn don’t leave too late so we can have some time for ourselves.” He adds, letting go of Louis’ hand. “I’d really like to finish what we started earlier.”

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” Louis smiles smugly.

“You have no idea.”

Louis can’t help but rolls his eyes at Harry’s cackle and retreating figure, but as he enters his office a minute later, he thinks to himself that he can’t get enough of Harry either.

 

_What a feeling to be right here beside you now_

_Holding you in my arms_

_When the air ran out and we both started running wild_

_The sky fell down_

_But you've got stars, they're in your eyes_

_And I've got something missing tonight_

_What a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow_

 

The days pass by quickly, and Louis finds himself on Thursday night running up to the Tesco near his place to buy the essentials for lads night. He fills his cart with beer, soft drinks and snacks, and he throws two packs of condoms and lube in it as well, knowing that Harry is most definitely staying at his place for the night. They haven’t actually discussed the fact that they spend most nights having sex and then falling asleep in each other’s arms, but Louis doesn’t find it particularly strange.

He knows Zayn would have a thing or two to say about how their relationship is evolving fairly quickly, but he chooses no to think about it too much. He can’t even deny to himself that what they have going on looks suspiciously like an actual romantic relationship, but as long as there are no feelings involved, they should be able to keep it simple. At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Once he’s back in his flat, he cleans the place as much as he can, and he takes a shower before putting on the Pink Floyd tee shirt he borrowed from Harry and a pair of dark blue jeans. He doesn’t realise he put on Harry’s shirt until the buzzer goes off and he catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.

Louis hurries through his flat to get to the door and buzzes whoever it is, waiting by the door to let in his guest. The lift opens to reveal Niall and Zayn, both dressed to the nines and Louis’ eyebrows scrunch together, intrigued by their outfits. They’re carrying Tesco bags with them, and they hand the bags to Louis as an offering, grinning at him. Louis whistles at the pair.

“Well, hello boys.” Louis says as he takes the bags from them . “Didn’t know we were suiting up tonight.”

“Hey Lou.” Zayn says as he wraps Louis in a hug.

[Zayn](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/170258890586/zlall-pre-grammys-grammys-red-carpets-2018) is wearing fancy black trousers, with a white button shirt and a pink blazer - expensive designer for sure - and [Niall](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/173397681206/dailyniall-niallhoran-berlin) opted for a light grey suit and a simple white shirt. They both look amazing and important.

“Hiya, mate.” Niall greets. “Don’t take the piss, we’re coming from an important meeting, had to look proper and all.

“A meeting?” Louis asks inquisitively. “What are you guys up to?”

“Let’s wait for Harry, and we’ll tell you about it.” Niall smiles wickedly.

Niall and Zayn shrug off their jackets, and Louis hands them both a beer before stocking his fridge with what they brought - beer and vodka - and joining them in the living room. Zayn plugs his phone on Louis’ speakers and they settle comfortably, Niall and Zayn on the sofa and Louis bundled up on his rocking chair.

“This sofa is amazing, Lou.” Niall says as he wiggles his bum on it, eyes closed to show appreciation. “Better than Bernard.”

“Who’s Bernard?” Zayn asks chuckling.

“Harry’s sofa. It’s ugly but quite comfortable.” Niall answers before taking a swing at his beer. “I love yours better though.” He adds, and he and Louis cling their bottle together, grinning.

The bell chimes a minute later, and Louis goes to open the door to reveal a very rosy cheeked Harry, holding a bottle of red wine and a Tesco bag. _Such thoughtful guests_ , Louis thinks to himself as he takes the bag from him.

“Hi.” Harry grins, before leaning in and pressing a quick peck on Louis’ lips. The bottle slips from his hand and Louis manages an impressive move to catch it before it crashes on the floor.

“Oops.” Louis yelps. “You’re lucky I got good reflexes, H.”

Harry doesn’t respond but laughs awkwardly as they make their way to the living room. Louis lets the three of them to themselves to set up their snacks and he can’t help but rolls his eyes when he finds baby carrots, hummus and a cucumber in the bag Harry brought.

“What am supposed to do with the cucumber, Harold?” Louis shouts, eyeing the cucumber suspiciously.

“Just peel it off and cut it to pieces, Lou!” Harry shouts back.

Right. Peel it off and cut it to pieces. Like Louis has nothing better to do. He indulges Harry nonetheless, and puts the cucumber pieces into a bowl with toothpicks, before placing it and the rest of the snacks on a tray. He pours a glass of wine for Harry, knowing that he’ll prefer to drink wine rather than a beer and he heads back to the boys.

“So, care to share what this meeting was about?” Louis says as he put the tray on the counter table.

Niall and Zayn both grin at that.

“Do the honours, Horan.” Zayn says as he waves at Niall. “After all, it’s your project.”

Niall rubs his hands together, a wide smile on his face as he launches into the retelling of their afternoon.

“You guys know that I work for labels and that basically my job is to dig up new artists for them to promote. After the last open mic session with Zayn, we talked about it and I realised I’m essentially doing the hard part of the job, when really what I’ve always wanted to do was to take care of the following process, like produce and manage those people. And Zayn here thinks that I should do it myself.”

Niall pauses then to take a large gulp of his drink. “It’s just so frustrating when labels end up not signing the artists I present them, even when they’re crazy talented. So, after careful consideration, I decided to create my own label, and our meeting today was with a group of potential investors so I can have the starting budget to launch it.”

“And I’m going to help.” Zayn chimes in. “Partly financially, but it’s also a good way to help my most talented students to get into the music business.”

“Well, fuck me, that’s amazing.” Louis says, gobsmacked. “Congratulations, guys!”

“Yeah, that’s so cool.” Harry adds, obviously impressed. “That’s everything you’ve always wanted to do, Niall, I’m so proud of you, man.”

“Thanks, Hazza.” Niall blushes lightly. “I mean, nothing is done yet, we still have to get the financial help, but I believe we can do this. I mean, Zayn proposed to bring in a lot of money to begin with, and investors are more keen to bet on their money when they know someone else is ready to back up the project. Maybe you guys will help one way or the other.”

“Obviously.” Louis huffs. “I’ll introduce you to anyone I can think of that would be inclined to be involved in this. Could be huge.”

“Let’s drink to that!” Niall exclaims. “To a new beginning and many records to come.”

They cling their drinks together, big smile plastered on their faces, and heads full of dreams of a record company with the name Horan written big on the facade of a building.

 

They spend a solid hour talking about how Niall wants to do this, what kind of artists he wants to manage and stuff, all the while eating their snacks and drinking beer after beer, and wine for Harry. Niall is the first one to demand real food, the snacks not cutting it for him, and Louis orders three large pizzas and a box of chicken wings. The food arrives pretty quickly, and they decide on watching a movie while they eat.

“I vote for a romcom!” Harry slurs. He’s practically sitting on Louis’ lap at this point, his eyes already droopy, one arm slung over Louis, his chin propped up on Louis’ shoulder. The fact that neither Niall nor Zayn find their current position odd is a tell of itself.

“Absolutely not.” Niall huffs indignantly. “You’ve seen them all, and I’m not watching The Notebook again.”

“What about Deadpool?” Zayn proposes, hopeful. “The second one is coming out soon, and I’d like to see the first one again.”

“Oh come on, Zee.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve seen all Marvel movies at least three times.”

“And?” Zayn says with an impassive expression.

“Alright, alright, let’s put it to a vote.” Niall says.

“Lou?” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear conspiratorially, while Zayn and Niall throw suggestions at each other.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll eat you out until you cry if you back me up on this.” Harry whispers in his ear.

Louis gets a tingling feeling in his stomach, a blush creeping up on his face as he slightly turns his head to the side to look at Harry.

“Yeah?” He says in a husky tone.

“Yup.” Harry says, a cheshire cat smile on his pretty face, mischief written all over it.

“Guys?” Niall effectively brings back their attention to the matter at hands, looking at them expectantly. “How do you vote?”

“I vote for a romcom.” Louis says hurriedly.

Zayn grunts and Niall deflates, his shoulders slumping down in defeat before he throws an exasperated look at Harry. “I don’t know what you said just now, but I’m calling cheats.”

They end up watching ‘The Silver Lining’ with Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper, and Louis is bored out of this mind about ten minutes into the movie. But later in the evening, when the boys have left and he’s sprawled on his sheets, Harry’s head buried between his thighs, licking at him fervently, he knows he’ll sacrifice a lot of hours in the future if this is what he gets in return.

 

_Push me up against the wall_

_Don't take it easy_

_You like it hard like me_

_It's what you need_

_Let's get naked and explore_

_Our inner secrets_

 

The following weekend, Louis agrees to go to the opening of an art exhibition with Zayn, because they may have had a great lads night with the boys, but they still need to spend some time together, just the two of them.

November is coming to its end and Louis shivers under his thick coat as he smokes a cigarette in front of the gallery, idly watching people wandering inside through the glass wall, mist from the cold forming at the bottom of it.

The Camden Arts Center used to be a library in the sixties, turned into a gallery in the last decade. The premises are not huge but the place is gorgeous, and Louis is grateful for Zayn for bringing him. A New York based artist is exhibiting a wide collection of photographs taken in the 90’s, and Louis loves it the second he sets foot in the gallery.

He finds Zayn talking with the curator of the exhibition, his hands flying around and his eyes gleaming with passion. Louis heads to the bar after making sure that Zayn has spotted him in the corner of his eyes, and Louis orders a rum and coke before taking a look around.

Soon enough, Zayn finds him amongst the visitors and wraps an arm around his shoulder. He’s carrying a glass of whiskey in one hand, [looking dapper](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/170843285686/zaynharry-x) in a soft red knitted jumper, the bright colour clashing with his hair beautifully.

“You like it?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Louis answers. “Been a while since I’ve been to one of these.”

“Come on, let’s take a look around.” Zayn says.

They wander around the gallery for a while, Zayn pointing out which piece he likes the most and which one he thinks were the hardest to shoot. Louis listens intently, before the conversation takes a surprising turn.

“How is Harry?” Zayns asks, straw pinched between his lips.

“He’s good.” Louis nods. “You saw him a couple days ago.”

“Yeah… You two seemed awfully cosy that night by the way.”

“And?” Louis frowns. “You and Niall are the only people who know what’s going on between us, so I guess it’s nice not to hide in front of you guys.”

“What’s going on exactly?” Zayn asks, eyes curious as he stares at Louis.

Louis shrugs and walks to the next photograph, purposely avoiding the conversation, but Zayn is quick to catch up on him. He stands by Louis’ side, focusing on the photograph for a couple of seconds before speaking again.

“Are you a thing now? I mean you and Harry?” He asks.

Louis peers up at his best friend at that with comical wide eyes, a rough laugh escaping him. This is absurd, really.

“What are you talking about? This…thing with Harry? It’s nothing more than two people occasionally having sex. We’re not-”

“You are though, even if you don’t want to admit it.” Zayn cuts in. “He could be good for you, if only you’d let yourself be a little less…”

“Less what?” Louis retorts, annoyed.

“Guarded.” Zayn says with a contrite face. “Look, we’ve known each other for years, Lou. And I know you don’t want to be in a relationship, but don’t you feel like it’s time to change that? Aren’t you afraid of ending up alone?”

“Where is this all coming from?” Louis scoffs. “Did Gigi give you another one of those psychology books?”

“Stop fucking around for a second, okay?” Zayns says exasperatedly. “I know that you’re afraid of depending on someone. But the guys you’ve been with since I’ve known you? They were assholes, Lou, none of them deserved you.”

“I know that…”

“I know you do, but not all guys are bad.”

“I’ve made my peace with possibly ending up alone forever.” Louis says as a joke, eyes set on the photograph in front of him. The fact that he actually believes it doesn’t escape Zayn though.

“Listen to yourself!” Zayn retorts indignantly. “You’ve been single for years, and that’s okay, not everybody wants to be in relationship, but things seem to be different with Harry.”

Louis crosses his arms against his chest defensively, one eyebrow raised defiantly at Zayn.

“The way you are with each other, Lou… It’s not normal. Even before anything happened, the way you talked about him, I could tell he was different for you. It’s like you’re drawn to each other and you refuse to see it, because you’ve already made up your mind that nothing will come out of it!”

Louis stays silent. He knows his best friend means well, he really does, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He’s a pessimistic soul when it comes to love, and not even Zayn’s pep talk can change that. He’s been let down too many times to give someone the chance to hurt him again.

He used to be the guy that fell hard and gave it all, but he was only rewarded with betrayal and hurt. And Zayn knows that, he was there to pick up the pieces afterward. Every time things turned sour with his boyfriends, whether they were cheaters or not as committed as Louis was, Zayn was there. He even encouraged Louis not to bother with relationships after his last one failed miserably.

“I wasn’t sure about it, but after the other night, you can’t possibly look me in the eyes and tell me there’s nothing going on there. I mean, you move, he moves, that’s some powerful magnetic shit you got going.” Zayn continues.

Louis rolls his eyes and drinks the remnants of his drink in one go, a lump the size of a state making his way to his throat.

“All I’m saying, is that I’d hate for you to miss a chance just because you don’t think you deserve it.” Zayn adds, like the thought is particularly ridiculous. “I understand why you’ve been that way for so long, but it’s time to get back in game, don’t you think?”

“Did you ask me to come here so we can talk about my non-existent love life?” Louis frowns. “Because if that’s the case, I’d rather leave.”

A sad expression clouds Zayn’s features and he stares at Louis in a way that makes him feel small under his gaze.

“You’re seriously going to just… ignore it? Pretend this is not real?” Zayn questions.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Louis finally bursts in anger, his voice drawing attention to them. “I fucking don’t want to, because I knew you, of all people, would make a big deal out of it, when there’s nothing to talk about! Just drop it.” Louis hisses.

“But, Lou! You clearly feel something-”

Louis interrupts Zayn before he can finish. “Okay, you know what? I’m leaving.”

Louis practically runs to the bar and hands his now empty drink to the bartender, and he leaves the gallery fuming, fleeing the scene and not taking one look back at Zayn.

He walks hurriedly through the busy streets of London, until he finds an black cab parked by and hops into it, quickly giving directions to the taxi driver before falling back into the seat. He feels the headache coming, Zayn’s words working in a loop in his mind, and he hates it, he really does. Maybe that’s the reason he didn’t want to talk about Harry with Zayn, because he knew that Zayn would see right through the bullshit and force him to open his eyes. Does he spend all his free time with Harry? Yes. Does he have a hard time falling asleep now that he knows what it feels like to fall into a slumber while Harry is holding him close? Yes.

But it doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything, because Louis doesn’t want to rely on anyone else to be happy. Harry is nothing more than a fleeting phase he’ll have to give up on one day, and as much as he doesn’t want it, Louis subconsciously prepared himself for the day that Harry will end this thing between them. Because Harry is too good to be true, too good to be his, body and soul, and Louis feels like deep down he doesn’t deserve to ask for more.

 

Louis and Zayn don’t talk for a week after that night at the art gallery, and Louis is on edge. He’s got so much work that he feels like he’s drowning under it, and the first week of December marks an anniversary he doesn’t want to think of. He doesn’t go to work much that week, and when he does, it’s like people can tell he’s in a mood because they keep to themselves, and they approach Louis only when it’s necessary, afraid Louis will snap at them just because he can. Harry is the only one who seems to know how to handle Louis these days, but Louis can tell Harry knows something’s up. He doesn’t mention anything though.

Zayn sends a text here and there, but he knows Louis too well to push it; they’ll work it out only when Louis decides it’s okay to bring back the argument and talk things through. For now, Louis has no intention to call his best friend and apologise because he’s too angry to do so, and Louis knows he’ll say things he’ll regret. So Louis opts for radio silence and sulking on his own, working from his bed, his only company being music and tea.

Reality catches up with him on the 7th, and he curses himself for checking social media first thing in the morning. Due to jet lag, Lottie has already posted something when he wakes up that day, and the Instagram post brings tears to his eyes. She does that every year, and it’s always painful. The picture is one of his mother and her, hugging tight on Lottie’s graduation day, their faces so similar, and their eyes twinkling with pride and joy. The caption simply says ‘I love you, forever and always’, and Louis locks his phone before throwing it to the side.

Louis gets out of bed feeling drained out of energy, his mind a foggy mess and his limbs uncooperative. He knows he needs to get out of his flat if he doesn’t want to spend the day moping around, feeling sad and defeated. He throws on a thick, soft cream jumper, a pair of jeans and his old vans, and gets out of his flat with no particular place in mind, just the need to walk his funk out.

He ends up strolling the city for hours, only stopping for a hot tea and a falafel when his stomach demands food. Unsurprisingly, his feet lead him to the Isabella Garden in Richmond Park.

Flowers are sparse during this time of the year, but there are still wildflowers peeking from the ground, impervious to the bleak mid-winter, making the Isabella Garden the most colourful part of the park. Louis finds a bench and sits on it, his mind dumb and his heart in his throat. He scrubs at his chin harshly, the stubble he’s got going for a couple days now feeling harsh under his palms, but he hasn’t find the will to shave it off before going out earlier.

He knows he should call Lottie to check up on her, since he knows very well how she must be feeling today, but he’s not sure he’s in the right disposition to do so right now. Louis’ phone keeps ringing in his pocket, and eventually he takes it out to find multiple texts from Zayn asking how he is doing and if he wants to meet up. Despite them not being in such good terms, Louis replies, only because he knows Zayn is worried about him and that it is the first year since his mother died that they’re not spending this particular day together. His reply is short but he can’t find it in himself to stay silent when Zayn must be out of his mind not to knowing how Louis is doing.

 _Through thick and thin,_ Zayn said two years ago, when they had to do this together for the first time, _it’s always going to be you and me, boo. Whatever happens._

The death of a close one always brings a new perspective on life, and Louis knows that despite how things ended up the other day with Zayn, he can’t stay mad at his best friend for long, not when it comes to such trivial things. Zayn is and always will be his constant, no matter what happens and he has no intention on putting their friendship at risk just because Louis can’t deal with his feelings.

There are a couple texts waiting for a response from Harry, asking where he is and if he is okay, but Louis ignores them. He chooses to roll a joint instead, the last remnant of the stash he bought thanks to Zayn.

He carefully rolls it, putting too much weed compared to the quantity of tobacco in it, but he needs to feel high right now, and just… not think. He’s halfway through it when Harry appears from nowhere, his tall frame wrapped in a shearling coat and black skinny jeans. The tip of his nose is red from the cold and he’s walking slowly as he approaches Louis, like he’s afraid Louis will jump away from the bench and run for the hills if he makes an abrupt move.

[Louis](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/173744298746/vampy-slayer-a-finished-piece-for-the-lovely#notes) redirects his attention to the ground once Harry has taken a seat by his side. Louis hands over the joint, not saying a word, and Harry takes it, bringing the joint to his lips. He takes a drag that makes him cough, but he keeps the joint for now. They sit in silence for a while, neither of them willing to break what feels like a sacred moment somehow. It's Louis that finally caves in.

“How did you do know I was going to be here?”

“I don’t know, really.” Harry takes another puff, lets the smoke fill his lungs. “I thought you’d be somewhere quiet. You told me about this place before? The night we were supposed to meet with Stevie Nicks.”

Harry pauses then, his eyes on the ground as he hands over the joint to Louis who takes it and takes a deep puff out of it.

“Zayn texted me, said you were fighting but he didn’t say why. He asked me to check on you, so I went to your flat first, but you weren’t there.” Harry says slowly. “And then, I don’t know, I just thought you could be here. Took me a while to find you though. I walked around for an hour before I spotted a map of the park and thought that maybe you’d be here.”

Louis nods but doesn’t respond. He puts a foot under his thigh, and he brings his palms to his eyes as to not let the tears fall down, emotions flowing to the brim. He’s having a hard time believing that Harry remembered such a small thing he said weeks ago, and still managed to keep it in corner of his mind, the detail popping up when Louis needed him the most.

“My Mum used to love coming here.” Louis says after a pregnant silence. “Whenever she came to London to visit me, she would find a way to come down here and just... I don't know, breathe, or something? I used to make fun of her for that because, it's not like you can really breathe in London. But she loved Richmond park, so...”

Harry nods silently, but he takes Louis’ hand within his own, his large, warm palm engulfing Louis’, and Louis’ shoulders slump in complete defeat, sadness taking over.

“She died two years ago. Leukaemia. And for a long time, I couldn't cope, I just couldn't. I thanked all the gods for having a boss that lets me work from home, because honestly I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I mean, I still had to go to concerts but I got wasted at those, and nobody knew what was going on with me. But the looks and the timid smiles at the office? That I couldn't take.”

Louis keeps his eyes fixed on their joined hands and squeezes lightly, his eyes glassy from the tears threatening to spill.

Harry inches closer, his body now pressed close to Louis’, and he brings his free hand to his chin, forcing Louis to look up at him. Harry is staring at him with sad eyes, like his heart is breaking into a million pieces just thinking about how Louis must be feeling. Louis looks away, because it’s too much, and he can’t even tell what he’s feeling right now, mixed emotions bubbling up and his heart threatening to jump out of his chest with how much it aches.

“Don't look at me like that.” Louis says harshly. “I don't need your pity.”

“I'm not... I'm just.” Harry takes a deep breath and squeezes Louis’ hands. “Look at me.”

Louis greets his teeth but does as he’s told.

“I lost my stepdad last year. And I know it's not the same, I can't even begin to imagine what I would do if something happened to my Mum but... I know what it feels like to lose someone you love.”

Louis stares at him as he lets out a shaky breath.

“What happened to him?” Louis asks softly.

“Cancer. He was struggling with it for a few years, we kind of knew it was coming but still. It was hard, especially for my Mum.”

Louis rests his head on Harry's shoulder, and Harry presses a hard kiss on the crown of his head, his grip on Louis’ hand tightening. Louis thinks to himself that he’d like to stay pressed against Harry like this forever if he could, because it’s been a while since he’s felt so safe in someone’s arms. Not even Zayn makes him feel like this.

The sun has set already, but neither of them are willing to move so they stay wrapped up in their own bubble for a while. The silence is a welcomed sensation compared to the turmoil in Louis’ heart.

A park agent eventually passes by and tells them the park is closing, so they stand from the bench, Louis’ hand never leaving Harry’s, and they slowly make their way to the exit. Harry stops in his tracks, effectively stopping Louis from walking further.

Harry wraps Louis in his arms, a small gap between their bodies, and Louis can’t help but run a hand through Harry’s hair to brush away a rebel curl falling on his forehead. Harry smiles weakly and closes his eyes, a dimple popping on his cheek as he exhales sharply. Louis leans in then and captures Harry’s lips between his in a heartfelt kiss. They stay wrapped in each other for a minute, their lips pressed together in a gentle way, Louis’s body going slack against Harry’s. When their lips part and Louis opens his eyes, Harry is staring back at him intensely, but there’s nothing sexual about it, only pure fondness and adoration. Louis’ hold tightens on him because he can’t remember for the life of him when the last time was that someone looked at him like that, like he means the world.

“I’m really, really glad to have you in my life, Harry Styles.” Louis breathes out.

“Feeling’s mutual, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry says back, his mouth twisting up at one corner.

 

***

After that day, Louis is hit with the fact that he can no longer deny his feelings for Harry. He’s still having a hard time defining them properly, but if he’s sure of one thing, it is that Harry has made his way into Louis’ heart and that Louis needs him in his life now.

Things don’t get awkward between them despite Louis’ revelation, because when they’re together Louis doesn’t think too much about it. He prefers to focus on Harry and how easy it is to be with him. Harry for the most part is completely oblivious to what’s going on in Louis’ head.

One night though, they’re in bed together, laying on their sides and wearing nothing but their underwear. Harry gently traces Louis’ tattoos with his fingertips as he asks questions about why Louis got them and what they mean, and Louis answers but his mind is somewhere else. He can’t help but look at Harry with curious eyes, trying to decipher what Harry wants from him in the long run, and if he feels the same way Louis does about him. His face must give him away, because Harry stops and kisses him slow and deep, taking Louis out of his reverie.

“What’s going on? You look sad.” Harry asks with a frown.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Louis lies.

“Come on.” Harry squeezes his thigh. “Tell me.”

“I… I was thinking about Zayn. I acted like a brat the last time we spoke and I need to patch things up.”

Louis doesn’t like to lie to Harry, but now is not the time to explain what’s going on with him. Besides, his fight with Zayn does explain why he looks sad. Partly.

“You guys will be fine.” Harry says reassuringly before pressing a quick peck to Louis’ lips.

“I know.” Louis replies softly. “Anyway, tell me about your tattoos.” Louis adds, effectively changing the subject.

Louis sighs in relief when Harry starts rambling in depth about his own tattoos, and for now he’s grateful to be off the hook.

 

The day they’re meant to leave for Manchester, Louis is in a taxi driving to King’s Cross when he decides to call Zayn to apologise for storming out of the gallery. Zayn easily accepts his apology and they agree on spending a night just the two of them when Louis gets back to London. Louis hangs up feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

The traffic is terrible that morning, and Louis arrives at the train station only five minutes before the train is supposed to leave. He runs through the station, dragging his luggage behind him and maneuvering with difficulty between the travellers filling the platform, sweating hard. He quickly spots Harry, who’s looking around with a frown and his phone in one hand, until he spots Louis and waves at him. They get on the train a minute before the doors close on them, and they quickly find their seats, Louis plopping down on his with a deep sigh.

“I was starting to think you were not going to make it.” Harry says as he puts his bags in the compartiment above their heads.

“Yeah, me too.” Louis replies. “The traffic was awful, I should have anticipated that.”

“You’re here, that’s what matters.” Harry says as he sits beside Louis. Harry runs a hand across his face, and now that Louis looks at him, he spots dark circles under his eyes.

“You look tired.” Louis states, his hand coming up to Harry’s face to caress the bags under his eyes gently.

“I had to stay up late to finish the layout for the December issue.” Harry yawns. “Connor killed me on that one.”

“I can imagine.” Louis huffs with a smile. “He can be a pain in the arse when things don’t look exactly how he wants them to.”

Harry hums and places his head on Louis’ shoulders, his eyes closing.

“Do you mind if take a nap?” Harry yawns again.

“Not at all. I think I’ll join you even.” Louis says as he throws one arm around Harry’ shoulders. Harry slips both of his hands between Louis’ thighs for warmth, and not even five minutes after the train has taken off, he’s snoring lightly beside Louis. It takes more time for Louis to doze off, but eventually he falls asleep too, the smell of Harry’s shampoo filling his nostrils.

They arrive in Manchester early in the afternoon, the train stopping abruptly once it has reached its destination, jostling them both out of their sleep. They go through the motions of retrieving their bags and getting out of the train in silence, both of them feeling out of it as they get out of the train station on autopilot. They hail a taxi to take them to their hotel, and they decide on ordering room service rather than going out to have lunch. Harry is still exhausted, and he clearly needs more sleep if he wants to be on his best game for the Q&A and the showcase taking place later in the day.

The hotel Louis booked is far from being fancy, but it has the advantage of being situated five minutes away from the venue where they’re meant to attend the evening events. Lots of journalists attending as well got the same idea, and Louis had not much of a choice when it came to booking the room. The squeaky, queen size bed is taking most of the space, and the bathroom is so tiny Harry and Louis barely fit in it at the same time, but the water pressure is acceptable according to Harry.

“Stop worrying, Louis. The room is okay.” Harry says before biting into his tuna sandwich.

He’s sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hair damp and a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, while Louis rummages through his bag in search of his toiletries, grumbling under his breath. It’s not like this trip is a romantic getaway, but Louis would have liked to treat Harry with a decent room at least. Louis is aware of Harry’s trouble with his back, and he’s afraid Harry is going to wake up tomorrow with strained muscles. Maybe he should have paid for a better room himself now that he thinks of it.

 _Stop it, this is not a couple’s weekend_ , his inner voice screams at him.

When Louis gets out of the shower, Harry is fast asleep on the bed, his body wrapped in the sheets, and a peaceful smile on his face. Louis’ features soften at the sight of him, and as he brushes a curl from his face, replacing it gently amongst the others, his heart misses a beat as he realises that sooner or later, he’s going to have to uphold his end of the bargain and admit that he wants more from Harry.

Louis tries to nap beside Harry, but his mind is running wild, and after a while, he gives up on sleep and takes out his laptop out of his bag. If there’s one thing he is good at, it’s burying himself in work in order to avoid his own problems, so he sets on redoing a complete background check on James Bay for his future article.

 

When Louis and Harry arrive at the Hope Mill Theatre, Louis falls in love with the premises instantly, and after a quick look at Harry, he can’t tell that Harry is charmed as well.

[The former cotton mill](https://www.google.fr/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi0.wp.com%2Fmytheatremates.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2016%2F06%2F600HopeMillTheatre2.jpg%3Ffit%3D600%252C400&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fmytheatremates.com%2Fmanchesters-menier-is-born-look-inside-the-new-hope-mill-theatre%2F&docid=gaMPPeMFgqbuPM&tbnid=UaGgpTtx-XQyAM%3A&vet=10ahUKEwiL8oOFk_vaAhVGuhQKHdrwD-kQMwg8KAUwBQ..i&w=600&h=400&itg=1&safe=active&bih=649&biw=1285&q=Hope%20Mill%20Theatre&ved=0ahUKEwiL8oOFk_vaAhVGuhQKHdrwD-kQMwg8KAUwBQ&iact=mrc&uact=8) makes out for a quirky, spacious venue built in wood and bricks and the staff have decorated the place in a lovely manner. There are white fairy light strings running along the walls, and colourful honeycomb paper balls hanging from the high ceiling. A stage has been set up at the end of the giant room, with dozens of chairs facing it, but there are also small iron-forged garden tables standing by the bar, next to a giant buffet with various types of food, where the guests will have dinner during the break between the Q&A and the showcase. The atmosphere is cosy and intimate, and Louis can’t wait to see James Bay perform here.

The Q&A is set to start soon, and Harry leaves Louis to get in the front line with the other photographers, the front row reserved to them. Louis sits a couple rows behind, his notepad secured on his lap, his eyes set on Harry fumbling with his camera and his lens, all the while talking to another photographer fighting with his uncooperative tripod.

At 7PM sharp, James Bay comes up to the stage under a round of applause and sits on the stool placed on the stage, mic in hand and a timid smile on his face as he waves at the small crowd gathered before him. The singer starts by thanking the audience for coming all the way up to Manchester, as it’s more common for this type of event to take place in London.

“This venue has a special place in my heart, and I really wanted to do this here. This room is the first one I got to perform in with more than a hundred people attending, and I thought it was nice to get back here for the launching of my new album.”

After the brief introduction, the Q&A really kicks in, and for a solid hour, James Bay answers question after question. He explains why he chose to go back to a more folk sound than what he previously did, talks about the people involved on the album, his inspirations, and even answers with humour a question about why he chose to cut his long hair and abandon the infamous black fedora.

Louis manages to ask a couple of questions, and he doesn’t miss the way Harry turns his attention to him, a proud smile etched on his face.

When the Q&A comes to an end, James Bay’s manager goes up to the stage and takes the mic over, prompting the journalists and the photographers to have a go at the buffet before the show starts, thanking them all for their questions.

The small crowd spreads over the place, some people going over to the bar and to the buffet, others heading out for a smoke. Louis is tempted to do so as well but instead he chooses to secure a table for two near the bar so he and Harry can have dinner. Harry joins him soon after and he takes a seat in front of Louis as he put his camera into his satchel and places it on his chair.

“Did you take good shots over there?” Louis asks as he lights up the small candle at the center of the table.

“Yeah, I’m happy with what I got.” Harry scrunches up his nose. “I’m famished though.”

“Me too.” Louis laughs, eyes crinkling. “Let’s spread out. I’ll get us food, and you get the drinks, alright?” He adds, standing up.

“Deal.”

Louis turns on his heels and goes straight to the buffet, and he piles up samples of pretty much everything there is to eat on the table into paper plates. The food looks delicious and Louis can’t wait to have a proper meal after the poor excuse of a sandwich he and harry ate earlier in the day.

Harry has already returned when Louis goes back to their tables and he hands Harry is plate with plastic cutlery and a paper napkin. Harry is bouncing on his chair like child as he takes his plate, and they spare no time digging into their food.

Soon enough, the lights flicker above their heads, signaling that the show is starting soon, and they grab their drinks to get situated in front of the stage. The venue staff have removed the chairs placed there for the Q&A, effectively emptying the room and allowing the crowd to stand and dance along the concert. Harry has to take pictures of the performance so Louis knows they won’t get to stand as close as he would like to, but it’s enough to have Harry by his side nonetheless.

The lights dim out completely then, the only source of power coming from the fairy lights on the walls, creating a very romantic atmosphere. They match with perfection the music vibe Louis expects from James Bay, what with his lyrics usually revolving around heartbreaks and fear of the future.

 

The show turns out to be amazing, and Louis is captivated by James Bay’s stage presence. With only his guitar and his powerful voice, he manages to charm his audience effortlessly, his melodies simple yet beautiful, and his lyrics personal and powerful. Louis sways to the music with his eyes closed, his heart big in his chest with how much he loves it all, and he thinks to himself that this might be one of the best concerts he’s ever attended.

When James Bay announces that he’s got two more songs to perform before the end of the show, Harry finally puts away his camera and inches closer to Louis. His knuckles brush softly against Louis’, and Louis can’t blame the alcohol this time for being bold. He takes Harry’s hand in his his, fingers intertwined, and he squeezes twice, his eyes set on the stage. Harry squeezes back, and when Louis peers up at him, he can see Harry’s eyes glinting even in the dark of the room.

 _Yeah,_ Louis thinks to himself, _this is definitely the best concert ever_.

Later in the night, when they’re back at their hotel room, they fall into each other’s arms the minute they walk through the door. Where there was passion and anticipation lies now the desire to be close for a whole new lot of reasons, or at least it does for Louis.

As Louis thrusts inside Harry languidly, with Harry lying down on his back and Louis pining his wrists above his head, the rush Louis gets when he feels his orgasm coming is accompanied by a sudden surge of love for the man beneath him. Louis forces himself to open his eyes and stare into Harry’s eyes, and he can’t help the moan escaping his throat at the sight of Harry’s face constricted in pleasure, his eyes wild and his hair in disarray. Louis kisses him deeply, one hand leaving Harry’s wrist to stroke his cock, and Harry comes hard, his now free hand buried deep in Louis’ hair. Louis follows seconds after, and they fall side by the side on the bed, exhausted but sated. Louis hates that the words echoing in his head right now are those Zayn spurted at him the last time they saw each other.

_You’re seriously going to just… ignore it? Pretend this is not real?_

Louis squints his eyes hard, as if it could make them go away, and as he slides one leg between Harry’s thighs, holding Harry tight against him, Louis thinks that no, he’s not going to ignore it, simply because he can’t go on without knowing if Harry wants to be his, as much as he already is.

 

_I wanna give you wild love_

_The kind that never slows down_

_I wanna take you high up_

_Let our hearts be the only sound_

_I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine_

_I wanna give you wild love_

 

The Christmas spirit has taken over London, the streets decorated with lights and colourful trees, and people wearing ugly sweaters mass into coffee shops to have hot chocolate and gingerbread. Louis is having a hard time believing that Halloween was almost two months ago. Time is flying too fast for his taste, but he still finds pleasure in watching people rushing in the streets to buy gifts for their loved ones.

The season marks Louis’ birthday as well. As much as he hates the idea of turning 29, he’s eagerly waiting for it because it’s tradition for him and Zayn to celebrate it together, bundled up in Zayn’s living room with spicy mulled wine and cookies, listening to Christmas songs.

Zayn is swamped with work at the moment with his classes at the Institute, his job at UCL and the many meetings set up for Niall’s future label taking up all his time. So they agree to meet once the holiday break will finally start. Things go back to normal between them, although Louis can’t wait to see his best friend in person to make sure they’re really okay.

A week after going to Manchester, Harry took a few days off to go to Cheshire and spend time with his family, and Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself. With Harry away for the holidays, Louis realises how much time they’re spending together, and how hopeless he is without him. He busies himself by working on a few assignments, buying a small Christmas tree and going to the hairdresser to cut his hair, which has been long overdue.

The day of his appointment at the hair salon, he’s sitting in his chair as he watches the strands of hair falling to his shoulders with amazement, wondering how he could have waited so long to have a trim. He’s really happy with the result, [his hair](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172268268966) now short on the sides and a bit longer on the top of his head.

 _Until next summer_ , he thinks to himself as he puts the hairband in his pocket.

 

Louis goes shopping for gifts a few days before his birthday, and he’s set on spoiling his friends and his sister, just because he can. He buys a fancy Gibson guitar for Niall, a Chanel bottle of perfume and a Louboutin pair of shoes for Lottie, and a huge set of fancy art supplies for Zayn. Louis manages to bribe Connor for tickets to the premiere of the next Deadpool movie as well, knowing that Zayn is going to freak out if they get the chance to meet Ryan Reynolds.

Finding a gift for Harry proves to be more difficult than Louis thought it would be, and he goes back to his flat that night empty handed. Louis browses the internet relentlessly until he finds the perfect gift. There’s a camera shop in Soho that sells vintage photography equipment, and he buys Harry a white polaroid camera that is apparently extremely hard to find these days. The shop advises buyers to come to the shop to retrieve the gifts instead of requesting a delivery by mail, and Louis agrees to the terms. He wants to be sure that he’ll have Harry’s gift by the time Harry will be back in town.

The morning of his birthday, Louis gets woken up by his phone ringing non stop with texts from his friends and his sister, and his heart swells twice its size at their words. He spends the day feeling perky, his phone ringing with texts from co-workers and his Facebook page getting bombarded with birthday wishes.

Louis leaves his flat in the late afternoon to get to Zayn’s, a bag of snacks and Zayn’s present in each hand. Zayn buzzes him up once he arrives, and Louis breathes out in relief when his best friend crashes into his arm, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug.

“I missed you so much, you twat.” Zayn says with his face pressed against Louis’ cheek.

“I missed you too, Zee.” Louis chuckles.

They spread their snacks on the coffee table and Zayn turns the TV on so they can watch the annual BBC Christmas special. Zayn pours them both large mugs of warm mulled wine and they cuddle under Zayn’s duvet.

Catching up on almost three weeks of news takes a lot of time, but Louis basks in the moment as he listens to Zayn talking about his classes and the advancement of Niall’s project. Louis is glad to hear that Niall’s deal with potential investors is almost a sure thing now, and that if everything goes as planned he should be able to create the label by the beginning of next year.

Soon enough, Harry is brought to the discussion and Louis tenses perceptibly.

“How did it go in Manchester?” Zayn asks nonchalantly. “Did you have a good time?”

“I… yeah, it was amazing.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, Lou.” Zayn says softly.

Louis clears his throat and extricates himself from Zayn, but they stay close nonetheless, Zayn’s hand pressed against Louis’ knee in reassurance.

“You were right. I do like him, like a lot.” Louis confesses as his runs a hair through his hair, his eyes cast down on his lap.

“Don’t look so down, love. It’s a good thing.” Zayn replies.

“You think so?” Louis asks, unsure.

“Of course it is!” Zayn rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure he’s crazy about you too.”

Louis blushes lightly but he finally peers up, and Zayn seems so confident about it, it instills hope into Louis’ heart.

“What are you going to do about it?” Zayn inquires.

Louis mulls his answer over for a minute, his grasp on his mug tightening.

“I think… I think I’m going to tell him. I need to tell him, right?”

“Obviously.”

“I want to take things slow though, like try to go on proper dates and all.” Louis pauses then, and he bites his lips, uncertainty brooding in the pit of his stomach. “I’m fucking scared, Zee.”

“Of what?” Zayn asks incredulous.

“Of a billion things!” Louis exclaims. “What if I screw up? What if it doesn’t work and I lose him as a friend? Not to mention that maybe he doesn’t want to be with me, and maybe I’m just going to make a fool of myself and then we’ll have to work together.” Louis’ eyes go wide at the thought, panic making his throat constrict. “Fuck, it’s a terrible idea, I can’t do this.”

“Okay, slow down.” Zayn says. “First, there’s no way he’s not into you, okay? The guy is so smitten with you, it’s painful to watch.”

Louis chuckles at that. Trust Zayn to say something like that when Louis is having a breakdown right in front of him.

“Second, and this is important so listen to me, Lou. What do you think is worse: not telling him and finding out one day that he’s met someone else? Or taking a chance and getting rejected?”

“Are you kidding? That’s equally awful!” Louis frowns.

“No, it’s not. Because in the first case scenario, you’re going to regret it so much it’s going to drive you crazy. At least, you’ll have the satisfaction to know that you tried.”

“Hmm, I’m not convinced.” Louis says before taking a large gulp of his wine.

“Trust me on this.” Zayn adds. “You don’t want to wake up one day and realise that you missed your chance just because you were too scared to do something about it.”

Louis hums, and as he mulls Zayn’s words over and over again, he gets hit with the fact that he’s more scared of losing Harry to someone else rather than making things awkward between them.

 _You’ll work from home forever if he doesn’t want you. That’s it, that’s your solution_ , he thinks to himself.

“You’re right.” Louis finally says with a sense of finality. “I’m going to try and make things work.”

“Yeah?” Zayn perks up visibly.

“Yes. I’m doing it.”

“Yay!” Zayn shouts, fist in the air. A bit of wine spills from his cup and stains the carpet, but Zayn doesn’t blink an eye as he puts his mug on the coffee table and brings Louis close to him.

“It’s going to be fine, Lou. I’m sure of it.” Zayn states firmly.

“I really, really hope you’re right.” Louis sighs.

 

***

 

The day Harry comes back from Cheshire, Louis feels restless. He can’t focus on anything beside how he’s going to break the news to Harry that he wants more for them than just a casual relationship, but not one scenario he creates in his head seems to be good enough. At some point, he seriously considers just blurting out ‘hey, I’m crazy about you, would you like to be my boyfriend?’ but the idea makes him cringe. He’s not a teenage boy confessing a crush after all, and he’s sure he can do better than that.

Louis tries to work on an article he’s supposed to hand over before New year’ Eve, but the words just don’t come and he gives up on it, opting instead to numb his mind by watching episodes of the Great British Bake Off.

Later in the day, he’s sprawled on his sofa, listening to an old jazz record when he gets a text from Harry, saying that he’s home and that Louis can come by if he wants to. Louis gets a rush of panic that makes his insides twist, because he thought Harry would come home too exhausted to see him after his journey from home. He’s not prepared to blurt his truth tonight, not one bit.

Nonetheless, Louis hops into the shower and gets dressed, because he may be feeling anxious but he wants nothing more than to see Harry after spending a week apart. Louis feels a bit pathetic with how much he missed him. He grabs his stuff and Harry’s present and gets out of the door in a flash, anticipation bubbling up in his stomach.

When Harry opens the door to his flat, the first thing he does is grab Louis by his coat and drag him inside, one of his hands coming up to Louis’ hair. He stays silent for a good ten seconds, staring at Louis like he’s trying to memorise his features, and when he finally presses their lips together, Louis sighs against his mouth, his body going slack. They kiss for what feels like an eternity before a neighbour walks in the corridor and clears his throat loudly, taking them out of their little bubble. In their rush, Harry hadn’t closed the door behind them and they both blush a little at the indignant look the man has just given them.

“You cut your hair.” Harry states as he lets go of Louis to close the door.

“Yeah.” Louis runs a hand through it, the feeling even odd too himself after having it so long for a while.

“I like it. You look like Cillian Murphy in Peaky Blinders.”

“Well, thank you, Curly.”

Harry chuckles at the nickname and leads Louis to the living room after a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Prosecco and two glasses half filled with peach purée - a traditional cocktail in Italy, according to Harry.

Louis takes off his coat and places it on a chair nearby, before he pours the prosecco into their glasses, while Harry puts on a Janis Joplin record. Without notice, Harry disappears into the corridor leading to his bedroom and when he comes back, he’s clutching a paper bag in his hands, a large smile on his face. He sits on the sofa cross legged, the bag secured between his thighs, and Louis mimics the position so they’re facing each other.

“Okay, so I know you just got here, but I’m pretty sure this,” he points out the bag set at Louis’s feet, “is for me, so let’s exchange gifts because I don’t want to wait.” Harry says with an excited face.

Louis shakes his head fondly and snatches the bag from Harry as he hands over the one he brought. In the bag, Louis finds a large leather photo book filled with black and white pictures Harry took during the assignments they covered together. The pictures are detachable so Louis can frame his favourites, and Louis loves it. It’s like he can retrace all the things they’ve done together through the photographs, each picture attached to a memory, Harry being the common thread between all of them. There’s also a light blue sweater in the bag, very similar to the lavender one Louis often borrows when he’s staying at Harry’s place.

“Lou…” Harry whispers almost inaudibly.

Louis peers up at him, and Harry is holding his polaroid camera like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever owned, the box abandoned at his feet, and Louis scrunches up his nose in delight at the face Harry’s making.

“You like it?” Louis asks timidly.

“Of course I do, but it’s too much! I bought you a fucking sweater and I printed some of my pictures!” Harry says agitated. “Oh my god, I suck.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax, H.” Louis says as he places a hand on Harry’s knee. “ I love them.”

“You do?” Harry pouts.

“I swear. Now, come here.” Louis says as he opens his arms wide. Harry jumps from his spot to cover Louis’ body with his own, his face buried in the crook of Louis’ neck.

“I’m sorry I suck at giving gifts.” He says, his voice a bit muffled. “I genuinely thought it was a good idea.”

“It was.”

Harry peers up at him, his eyes a bit sad, and so Louis tightens his grip on him and kisses him slow and deep, Harry’s body relaxing instantly at the touch.

“Do you want me to take you out? So I can redeem myself?” Harry asks once they part.

“No…” Louis drawls out. “I’d rather stay here, watch a movie or something and order food if that’s okay with you.”

“We can do that.” Harry agrees easily. “My Mum made vegetarian lasagna just for me, and I forgot to take it with me.” Harry adds with a pout.

“Now that’s a shame.” Louis jokes, and Harry pinches his belly in retaliation. “I could have done with a homemade dish. Haven’t had one in years.”

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to you.” Harry says seductively.

He starts peppering kisses on Louis’ throat, his hands gripping Louis’ waist and for a second Louis wants to stop him from going further. Tonight was supposed to be all about confessing his feelings and hopefully get Harry to reciprocate them. But then Louis thinks to himself that he may not get to have Harry like this again if Harry doesn’t feel the same way.

 _Indulge yourself, just in case things go south later,_ Louis ponders.

“Lou?”

Harry is looking at him expectantly, a frown etched on his face.

“Are you with me?” Harry asks softly.

“Yeah, sorry, love.” Louis replies, as he crosses his hands behind Harry’s neck.

“What are you thinking about? You seemed somewhere else just now.”

“It’s nothing.” Louis says.

Louis leans forward to press his lips against Harry’s, effectively distracting him and focusing all his attention on him.

Things get heated in a matter of minutes, and Harry is rutting against Louis, their breathing becoming shallow as they kiss passionately. Eventually, Harry extracts himself from Louis’ grip and grabs Louis’ hand to lead him to his bedroom. They take each other’s clothes off slowly, grinning at each other, and Louis wants everything. He wants to be able to do this everyday, wants to introduce Harry as his, even if the thought still gives him palpitations.

They fall on Harry’s bed gracelessly, with Louis pressed against the mattress and Harry hovering over him. Louis’ skin sets ablaze when Harry starts stroking his cock, his mouth sucking a mark on Louis’ chest that’ll stay for days.

“Harry…” Louis breathes out.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking maybe we could do something different this time.”

“Okay… Let me guess, handcuffs? Or maybe food? I’d lick whipped cream off of your nipples anytime, Lou.” Harry says with a dimpled grin.

Louis laughs earnestly, and he slaps Harry’s bum playfully, the gesture drawing a low moan from Harry. The sound sobers Louis up and he places his hands on Harry’s cheeks, forcing him to look up.

“I want you to fuck me.” Louis says, a tremor in his voice.

Harry’s expression turns serious at that, and he frowns for a second in surprise.

“Lou...You’re sure?”

Louis nods.

“I… Yes, fuck. I do want that.” Harry nods frantically.

Louis smiles and he gently strokes Harry’ cheeks, the skin so soft under his fingertips.

“I haven’t done this in a long time, you know.” Louis says shyly.

Harry smiles, his face lighting up. “I’m going to take care of you, I promise.”

Harry kisses Louis fervently then, his warm tongue moving in sync with Louis’, and Louis relaxes under him. Harry finally detaches their lips and scoots to the side of a bed to retrieve lube and a condom from his bedside table. He places the items on the bed and crawls down Louis’ body, his mouth never leaving Louis’ skin as he peppers kisses from his throat to his belly button, making Louis shiver in pleasure. Harry gets situated between Louis’ thighs, with Louis lying on his back, knees bent, and feet flat on the bed. Louis is shaking a bit, and Harry runs his large palms up and down his thighs to make the trembling subside.

“Relax, Lou.” Harry says. “It’s just me.”

Louis chuckles nervously, because Harry is apparently completely oblivious to the storm raging in Louis’ heart.

 _It’s not just you. You’re everything,_ he thinks.

Louis’ mind goes blank when Harry takes him into his mouth, sucking lightly on the head with his hands circling Louis’ ankles. Harry’s mouth looks sinful wrapped around Louis’ cock, and Louis has to close his eyes, afraid he’ll come too soon just watching Harry’s lips stretching around him.

Louis hears the bottle of lube being uncapped, and a minute later, Harry is teasing his entrance with one finger, his mouth moving up and down Louis’ cock eagerly. Louis winces when Harry’s finger breaches in, but he takes a deep breath to make his muscles relax.

“You okay?” Harry asks after releasing Louis’ cock with a pop.

“Yeah… Keep going.”

Harry grins and as he wraps his lips around Louis, his finger starts moving inside of him, caressing his walls gently. Louis is overwhelmed with all the sensations taking over him, and he grips the sheets tightly, holding on for dear life as Harry speeds up his movements.

“You can add another, H.” Louis slurs.

Harry pours more lube on his fingers and inserts two this time, and Louis’ back arches in pleasure, a sinful moan escaping his lips at the sensation. Harry pumps his fingers in and out, twisting them in search of Louis’ prostate and Louis feels delirious at this point. Harry lets go of Louis’s cock to bite his inner thigh, his fingers going at a relentless pace inside of him.

“Harry…” Louis stutters. “I’m ready, come on.”

“Not yet, babe. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry adds a third finger then, and he crooks them, effectively pressing against Louis’ spot and Louis cries out in pleasure. He hears Harry chuckle between his thighs, but he’s too caught up in pleasure to make a snarky comment.

“You look so hot like this.” Harry growls. “Just for me.”

“Just for you.” Louis mumbles.

Louis lets go of the sheets and buries his hand in Harry’s hair, pulling at the curly strands, and Harry moans.

“Please, H. I want you. Please.”

Harry withdraws his fingers and Louis winces, feeling empty all of a sudden. Harry quickly crawls back up and kisses Louis fiercely, teeth clashing and lips moving eagerly. Harry is hard, his cock pressing against Louis’ thigh and Louis slides a hand between their bodies, gathering the precome at the tip of Harry’s cock, before sliding his hand up and down. Harry moans loudly at the touch, his hips moving frantically against Louis’.

“Look at me.” Harry says in a deep, lustful voice.

Louis’ heart could explode with the intensity lying in Harry’s eyes, but he stares back nonetheless, blue eyes boring into green, and Louis is going to come if Harry doesn’t fuck him soon.

“So impatient.” Harry chuckles, and Louis realises he said that at loud.

Harry sits on his heels then, slides the condom on his cock in a swift movement and he pushes against Louis’ knee to widen the space between his legs, providing him with better access.

When Harry’s cock breaches his rim, the air gets knocked out of Louis’ lungs. Harry presses gently, his movements calculated and slow. One of his hands comes up to Louis’ face, and Louis takes two fingers into his mouth, suckling on them, drawing a cry out of Harry.

“You feel amazing, Lou. So tight. Fuck!”

Louis grabs Harry’s bum cheek and pulls him forward, getting his message across. Harry slowly but surely starts pounding into him until they’re rocking against each other frantically, the only sounds in the room being Harry’s grunts and Louis’ shallow breathing. Sweat forms on both of their bodies, hands sliding on each other’s bodies like they can’t get enough.

“I don’t know if I can last long.” Harry slurs. “I’m-”

Louis cuts him short with a kiss, his fingers digging into the flesh of Harry’s bum, and Harry sneaks a hand between their bodies to stroke Louis’ cock, his hand moving up and down fast and his hips snapping hard into him. With his free hand, Harry grabs one of Louis’ ankles and places it on his shoulder, and keeps thrusting forward mercilessly into him. Louis gives as good as he gets, grinding on Harry’s cock, his thighs burning with exhaustion. Harry’s deep thrusts hit Louis’s spot each time he pushes forward, and heat pools in the pit of Louis’ stomach.

Louis comes with a shudder and a shout, his whole body tensing up as his orgasm hits him full force. Harry comes almost simultaneously, the feeling of Louis clenching around him sending him over the edge as well. Harry gently removes Louis’ ankle from his shoulder, and he falls on Louis, his breathing erratic and his whole body going slack against him.

Louis wraps Harry into a fierce hug, Harry’s face pressed in the crook of his neck. He presses kisses after kisses against Louis’ throat, and they slowly come down from their high. Harry eventually pulls out and gets rid of the condom, after tying it with a knot and successfully throwing it into the bin near the bed. Louis rolls his eyes fondly at Harry making a shimmy move in victory, obviously proud of himself for making the shot. Louis is still lying on his back, and Harry lies by his side, one hand resting on Louis’ waist and his chin propped up on Louis’ chest. Louis entangles their legs together.

“Was that okay?” Harry asks after a while.

“Are you seriously wondering?” Louis asks with a huff.

Harry shrugs, but there’s a small smile on his face as he traces patterns on Louis’ naked chest. Louis puts a finger under Harry’s chin to make him look up and kisses him instead of replying, hoping the kiss conveys everything he feels.

They stay wrapped up in each other for a while, their eyes closed and their bodies cooling down, basking in the comfortable silence, until Harry props himself on one elbow.

“Lou?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing for New year’s Eve?” Harry asks.

“I have no idea.” Louis frowns. “You got plans?”

“I was thinking that maybe we could go to the company’s party.”

Louis hums noncommittally, and Harry bops his nose.

“I think it could be cool, don’t you think?” Harry insists. “Connor has hired a band for the night, and there’s going to be free booze.”

“We’ll do whatever you want, H.” Louis answers. “But for now, I just want to take a nap. You drained all the energy out of me.”

Harry chuckles and brings the sheets up, covering their bodies with it. Soon enough, they doze off, with Harry’s front pressed to Louis’ back and Louis thinks to himself that maybe Zayn is right. Maybe he’ll get to have Harry for himself.

 

They wake up two hours later, and Louis is famished, but most of all, he feels disgusting. Come has dried on his belly, and he reeks. He takes a shower while Harry changes the sheets, and afterwards, Harry hands him a pair of sweatpants and a shirt as Louis dries himself with a fluffy towel.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Harry says as he watches Louis get dressed. “Think of what you want to eat while I’m in there?”

“Yup.” Louis presses a quick peck on his lips and goes to the living room. It’s not particularly cold in Harry’s flat but Louis has always been sensitive to the cold so he puts on the blue sweater Harry had given him earlier. It’s comfy and soft and Louis rubs his cheek on his covered shoulder, purring like a cat.

He’s about to settle in the living room when the doorbell rings. Louis can hear the water still running in the bathroom, so he goes to the door and open it to reveal a very pregnant woman with bleached blond hair and a large dish covered with aluminium in her hands.

“Hello.” The woman says with a smug smile. “You must be Louis.”

“Erm, yes, Hi! And you are?”

“Gemma. Harry’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.” Gemma says as she extends her hand.

Louis freezes on the spot. Fuck, how could he have not known that? Now that he looks at her, the resemblance is obvious. Besides, he knows that Harry’s sister is pregnant and Louis assumes that not many pregnant women show up at Harry’s doorstep unannounced.

“Where is my brother?” She asks with one eyebrow raised.

“In the shower.” Louis blushes hard.

“I see.” Gemma replies, the smug smile still in place. “Look, I can’t stay, my husband is waiting for me downstairs. I just wanted to drop this off real quick.”

Gemma hands over the dish, and places a hand on her belly as she keeps staring at Louis inquisitively.

“Say hi to Harry for me, please?” She says before turning on her heels.

“Of course.” Louis responds dumbfounded. “It was nice to meet you.” He adds, right before Gemma gets into the lift.

“You too, darling. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough.” Gemma shouts back as she waves at him.

Louis closes the door, frowning at the implication of Gemma’s words but he decides not to dwell on it. He lifts the aluminum as he makes his way to the kitchen. Homemade lasagna.

 _Seems like we won’t have to order anything after all_ , Louis thinks to himself.

Louis is preheating the oven when Harry finally comes in the living room, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, water dripping on his chest.

“I heard the bell earlier.” Harry says. “Who was it?”

“Your sister.”

“What?” Harry says with wide eyes.

“Yeah. She brought lasagna by the way.”

“What did she say?” Harry asks with something akin to panic in his voice.

“Nothing, just to say hi, and that she couldn’t stay.”

“Nothing else?”

“No… Are you okay?” Louis asks with a frown.

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry says, but the way his eyes flee to the side makes Louis wonder. Harry is fiddling with his rings, purposely not looking at Louis. There’s a fleeting moment in which Louis wonders whether Harry has talked about him to his sister, and if so, he’s curious to know what was said.

“I’ll take care of dinner.” Harry says as he takes a step forward and hugs Louis from behind. “Why don’t you go and choose a movie? I’m going to ring Gemma real quick.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Louis leaves Harry in the kitchen and goes back to the living room, and as he goes through Harry’s list on Netflix, he smiles happily to himself. The events of the day give him hope for the future conversation he intends to have with Harry.

 

_So you can keep me_

_Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans_

_Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet_

_You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home_

 

 

Louis is stalling, he knows he is. Every time he gets to spend time alone with Harry, the words he so desperately wants to say get stuck in his throat and he postpones the dreaded conversation. Zayn makes fun of him for it, even calls him a fucking chicken once, and Louis can’t even bite back because he knows that Zayn is right.

December comes to its end, and by New year’ Eve, Louis makes a deal with himself. He’s going to enjoy the party with Harry and the next time they meet, Louis is going to spill his guts out. He has to, otherwise he’s going to drive himself crazy for nothing.

Harry picks him up at his flat the night of the party, and his face lights up when Louis exits his building. Harry is bundled up in a thick woollen coat, his silver glittery boots shining in the dark.

“Hey Lou.” Harry greets with a big smile.

“Hey yourself.” Louis replies back with a grin.

Harry takes care of ordering a Uber, and Louis lights up a cigarette as they wait for their car. The drive to the party doesn’t take long, and soon enough they arrive at the Hilton hotel situated near the London bridge Tower.

Connor has splurged on this one, and as Louis enters with Harry by his side, he whistles loudly at the grand decor. The room has been decorated with much gusto, small tables covered with white tablecloth and bouquets of pink peonies scattered all around the place. A stage has been built on the far wall of the room and there’s also a DJ booth near the bar. Balloons of all colours have been blown up with helium, and their strings hang from the high ceiling of the room.

Harry and Louis go to the coat check, and Louis’ jaw nearly hits the floor when Harry takes his coat off and hands it over to the hostess.

Harry is wearing a black suit with a sheer black button up [shirt](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/172688695626/pinkharold-harry-bring-back-this-shirt), embroidered with deep red flowers. The shirt is mostly unbuttoned, so much so that Louis can see Harry’s nipples when he leans slightly forward.

“You look beautiful.” Louis says in awe.

“Thanks.” Harry replies with a blush as he adjusts his blazer. “Not as beautiful as you but I did my best.”

And, well, [Louis](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/173764796551) knows he looks good. He opted for simple black trousers and a black button up shirt, but the metallic silver blazer does it all. It’s a bit extravagant, but it’s New year’s Eve after all. The hostess hands them both tickets so they can check out their coats later, and they head towards the bar to have a drink.

 

Truth be told, they should mingle. This party is the perfect opportunity to talk with coworkers they don’t get the chance to interact with much, but spending time together is enough, they are self sufficient.

They spend the night between the bar and their table, talking about everything and anything, the huge amount of alcohol they consume stripping them both off their inhibitions. Which probably explains why at some point, Louis ends up talking about his last boyfriend.

“He was so hot, I swear to god.” Louis slurs, rum and coke in hand. “Not much of a talker, but the sex was great.”

“Why did you guys break up?” Harry asks, a pink straw pinched between his lips.

“He cheated on me.” Louis laughs. “Went to his flat one day, his roommate buzzed me in and the poor lad didn’t know his friend was fucking someone else in the room next door.”

“That’s awful.” Harry exclaims.

“Yeah, well. It is what it is I guess.” Louis shrugs.

“I disagree.” Harry huffs indignantly. “When you’re committed to someone, you don’t go and fuck other people.”

“Not everyone thinks like you, H.”

“They should.” Harry states firmly. “You should always treat people with kindness.”

Louis stares at Harry fondly, and affection swells in his heart.

“Has anyone ever told you how perfect you are?” Louis asks as he takes a step forward, his toes bumping with Harry’s.

“No.” Harry chuckles. “But I really like that you think so highly of me.”

Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s waist and he presses their foreheads together, the gesture intimate and comforting at the same time. They don’t kiss, despite how much Louis wants to, because they’re in a room full of people they work with and anyway, Louis is not much into PDA.

The band performing is doing great and at some point, Louis lets Harry drag him to the dancefloor. They dance like idiots, ignoring the amused glances people throw at them in favour of watching each other bust the most ridiculous moves. Louis’ abs hurt with how much he’s laughing.

Ten minutes before the countdown, Harry drags him out of the room and they take the lift leading to the hotel rooftop, exceptionally opened for the night. They’re not alone, some people had the same idea as Harry, and they drink cocktails as they wait for the fireworks meant to go off a midnight.

“Why did we come up here, H? It’s freezing.” Louis says as he wraps his arms around himself.

“I thought it would be nice to watch the fireworks from up here.” Harry shrugs. “Besides, we don’t know these people. I can kiss the fuck out of you in front of them.” He adds with a grin.

Harry gets situated behind Louis and wraps his arms around his smaller frame. He places his chin on Louis’ shoulder as they wait patiently for the countdown to start, watching London expanding before them.

“It’s time people!” A man shouts at his friends as he jump from his seat. “10 ! 9 ! 8…”

Louis slightly turns his head to the side and peers up at Harry, who’s already looking at him intensely, the corner of his mouth twisting up on one side.

“3! 2! 1! Happy new year!”

The people surrounding them cheer and fall into each other’s arms, their glasses clinking and the fireworks exploding high in the sky in a burst of colours, but Louis has only eyes for Harry. Their kiss is slow and deep, their hands pressed together against Louis’ chest and Louis sighs against Harry’s mouth.

“Happy new year, Lou.” Harry whispers when they break apart.

“Happy new year, H.”

Later in the night, they go back to Louis’ place and strip of their clothes off before getting into bed. They’re both still drunk, the alcohol making them sleepy, and they fall asleep wrapped around each other, legs tangled at the ankles.

 

_Just say you love me, just for today_

_And don't give me time 'cause that's not the same_

_Want to feel burning flames when you say my name_

_Want to feel passion flow into my bones_

_Like blood through my veins_

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Two days after the party, Louis is meant to have lunch with Harry and his stomach churns with how nervous he is. He spends the morning stress cleaning his flat to have something to do with his hands, although the place is squeaky clean already.

He’s loading his washing machine with clothes when his phone buzzes in his pocket, signaling an incoming call from Harry.

“Hey, H. How are y-”

“Louiiiiis!” Harry cuts in. “I’m at the hospital, Gemma is having the baby!” Harry blurts out excitedly.

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yeah! My mom’s here, she arrived a few minutes ago and so I left her with my brother in law. He’s freaking out, the poor lad. Hasn’t stopped pacing around since we got here.”

Louis chuckles. Harry’s brother in law may be losing it right now, but Louis can tell from Harry’s tone that he’s not doing much better.

“I just called to tell you that obviously I can’t make it to lunch but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course. Say congratulations for me to your sister.”

“Will do, Lou. See you.”

Louis hangs up, and he starts the washing machine, a smile etched on his face. Since he’s not seeing Harry today, he may as well do something with himself. Louis stuffs his coat pocket with his keys and his wallet, and leaves his flat with the intention of buying a gift for Gemma’s baby.

 

***

 

Louis arrives at Harry’s flat the next day with a bouquet of yellow buttercups and a big shopping bag filled baby gifts. He couldn’t help going wild in the nursery store, incapable of choosing between the soft teddy bear, the toys and the baby’s outfit the sales woman presented him, so he bought everything.

Harry opens the door with a manic smile on his face, his hair in disarray and dark circles under his eyes but he seems happy more than anything, and his mood is contagious.

“Good afternoon, uncle.” Louis exclaims. He hands over the flowers and Harry takes them happily, before dragging Louis into his flat and crashing his lips against Louis’ almost frantically.

“Hi.” He finally answers. “Do you want tea?”

Louis nods, and Harry saunters to the kitchen in search for a vase, taking a good whiff of the flowers as he goes. Louis shrugs off his coat and joins him in the kitchen, where he finds Harry filling the kettle with water. They sit at the counter and Louis hands over the gift bag, Harry’s eyes wide as he peers inside.

“You shouldn’t have, Lou.” Harry says.

“Of course I had to. Happy days and all that.” Louis grins. “So tell me, how is your sister? and the baby?”

“They’re doing great!” Harry tells him. “Gemma is pretty tired, obviously. And my niece is the most precious thing ever. You should see her, she’s so beautiful, even with all the wrinkles and the pink skin. She’s perfect.”

Louis grins at Harry, the happiness written all over his face filling Louis’ heart with warmth.

“Her hands are so tiny and cute, and she has a lot of hair already!”

“Let’s hope she’ll have your curls.” Louis jokes.

Harry laughs earnestly as he stands up to pour boiling water into their cups. Louis accepts his gratefully and blows on the surface of his tea, Harry’s eyes set on him.

“What is it?” Louis asks.

“I… Gemma is having a dinner party next week for the baby, and I want you to come with me.” Harry blurts out.

Louis chokes on his sip of tea, eyes wild as he watches Harry.

“It’s nothing big, just family you know. My Mum will be there, obviously, and I believe James’ parents are coming from Liverpool to meet the baby.”

And, okay, wow. Louis is panicking, a big knot of sheer panic growing in his belly and making its way to his throat at light speed. This is too much, too soon. This is not how this is supposed to go. Louis didn't even get around to talking to Harry about his feelings and now Harry wants him to meet his family? Meeting the family is something couples in a serious relationship do. Which then leads to other things like moving in together, getting engaged, and getting married. Just the thought of that is making Louis' heart race, and not in a good way.

When did they even start acting like a real couple? Last time Louis checked, they were just two people enjoying each other’s company, having sex on the regular. Louis is just starting to realise he wants to take the next step and make Harry is boyfriend, but this? This is making him reconsider things because it's becoming too much way too soon. It's giving Louis whiplash.

He knows he’s blowing the situation out of proportions, but he can’t help feeling like the rug is being pulled from under him, and that without knowing, he’s got himself trapped in a relationship he didn’t even know he was in. Suddenly, the idea of confessing his feelings makes him feel nauseous.

 _No, no, no, too much, too soon,_ Louis thinks.

“I don’t know, H.” Louis says with his eyes set on his cup. “I mean, we’re not… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?” Harry asks, confusion written all over his face.

“I can’t meet your Mum!” Louis exclaims. “This is a family meeting, and you want to bring me? How do you even think you’re going to introduce me? ‘Hey guys, this is Louis, we work together. Oh, and we have regular sex as well, in case you’re wondering’.”

Louis stands up from his stool and starts pacing, hands on his hips.

He needs to calm down, he knows that, but his instincts tell him to rush through the door and run home. Louis takes a deep breath and finally glances up at Harry. The other man is looking at him sadly, teeth gritted. He looks nothing like he did a minute ago.

“Louis…” Harry narrows his green eyes at him. “It’s just a dinner party-”

“No, it’s not!” Louis shouts. “ It’s dinner with your Mum, and your sister, and I’m not… I’m not your boyfriend.”

The words come out of Louis’ mouth against his will, but they’re still true. Louis wants to be Harry’s partner at some point, but this sounds too official, too big for two people who haven’t properly dated yet. If only he could calm down for a second and explain himself more coherently, but he can’t find it in himself to tame the anxiety growing fast in his heart. Louis feels like he’s suffocating, an invisible grip on his throat holding on tight.

Harry remains silent, his eyes cast away and his expression blank as he nods to nothing in particular, his lower lip trapped between his teeth, like he’s having a revelation to himself.

“Harry? Say something?” Louis asks then as he takes a step forward.

Harry peers up and his expression has turned hard in a matter of seconds. He’s looking at Louis like he has a stranger in front of him, and Louis’ heart misses a beat. Harry looks angry and sad, but most of all utterly defeated.

“Alright.” He simply says. “Alright. You don’t want to come.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but you have to understand-”

“Oh don’t worry, I get it.”

Harry stands and throws his cup in the sink, and he keeps his back to Louis, his shoulders slumped as his hands grip the sink.

“Maybe you should go.” He finally says as he turns around. “I didn’t sleep much last night, and I’m exhausted.”

“Harry…”

“Please, go.” Harry says firmly. “I’m tired.”

Louis nods but doesn’t say a word, and as he retrieves his coat from the living room and exits the flat, he’s got the nagging feeling that he just made a huge mistake.

 

_So come on, let it go_

_Just let it be_

_Why don't you be you_

_And I'll be me_

 

Louis doesn’t hear from Harry in the next few days, and he is going out of his mind. Apart from the week Harry spent in Cheshire, this is the longest time they’ve gone without seeing each other, and Louis doesn’t handle it well. The radio silence is killing him but if Harry needs a few days to calm down, Louis thinks that he should at least give him that.

And so Louis sulks on his own, hiding in his flat as he tries to come up with a valid explanation about his freak out that would make Harry forgive him for being the biggest idiot ever. He’s still convinced that he shouldn’t go to the dinner party, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be with Harry, far from it.

Almost a week after their fight, Louis is in his office working on an article when he gets an email from Connor sent to Harry as well, asking for them to come by his office later that day. Apparently, the Fleetwood Mac manager has finally reached out, and they’re meant to interview the band soon.

When Louis enters his boss’s office, Harry is already there, deep in conversation with Connor about god knows what. Louis doesn’t know if it’s because he missed Harry so much, but Harry looks more beautiful than the last time they saw each other.

Harry is wearing an oversized pink shirt with polka dots, deep grey skin tight jeans and his signature Gucci loafers with the bee on the heels. Louis gets flashbacks of the first time they met, Harry crouched down on the floor in his office, fiddling with camera lenses. Louis hates that the memory makes his heart constrict in his chest.

“Ah, Louis.” Connor exclaims as Louis takes a seat beside Harry. “Thank you for coming.”

Harry doesn’t bulge on his seat, he keeps his eyes set on Connor, purposely avoiding Louis’ eyes.

“Hey boss.” Louis says as he crosses his legs. “How is it going?”

“It’s going great! Excellent even!” Connor smiles. “Before we start planning the Fleetwood Mac interview, I’d like to say that I’m really happy with the James Bay piece you guys did. I never expected you two to work so well together. You are officially my dream team.” Connor adds with a thumbs up.

Louis chuckles nervously, eyes on his lap. Harry for his part stays silent.

“That being said, I’d like to give some directions for the Fleetwood Mac interview. I don’t usually do that, but I have a clear vision of what should be done for this piece.”

“What do you have in mind?” Harry asks. It’s the first words he’s said since Louis entered the room, and Louis gulps down with difficulty. How can Harry’s voice affect him so much?

“Well, since there’s no actual news about the band right now, I’d like a more historical approach than what we usually do. Louis’ piece should focus on the evolution of the band, how they managed to become an iconic reference in the music world, and for the pictures, I want portraits of each of them. Maybe we can dig into our archives and find if there are portraits of them taken in the 70s ? 80s? And publish them side by side.”

“I see. A ‘Fleetwood Mac through the years’ kind of thing?” Louis wonders.

“Exactly.” Connor says as he nods. “What do you think?”

“Fine by me.” Louis answers.

“Yeah, no problem.” Harry agrees. “I’ll get in touch in their manager, ask him when we can squeeze a photoshoot. I think I’d like to do it outdoors.”

Louis turns his head toward Harry, eyebrows furrowed. Obviously, if the photoshoot is taking place outdoors, it means that it won’t happen simultaneously with the interview. There’s no way Louis is interviewing iconic rock stars in a park or something.

 _He doesn’t want to work with you anymore,_ his inner voice mocks him.

“I trust you to do what’s best, boys.” Connor says with wide smile.

Harry nods and stands up, clearly eager to leave the room, as if he can’t stand to stay here in Louis’ presence. Louis quickly follows him though, because he’s not having it. They need to talk, and Harry can’t avoid him forever.

“H! Wait up.” Louis says as he tries to catch up with him. “Harry!”

Harry stops in his tracks and turns around, a bored expression on his face.

“Yes?”

“Where are you going so fast?” Louis asks, a little bit out of breath.

“Back to my office.” Harry responds coldly. “Thought I could start on researching the archive for the pictures Connor wants.”

Louis scratches his scruff absentmindedly, the tension palpable between the two.

 _This is awkward_ , he thinks.

“Can we grab coffee first? I think we need to talk.”

“I really don’t have time, Louis.” Harry says as he turns on his heels.

“Oh, come on.” Louis grabs his upper arm to stop him but releases it almost immediately as he watches a deep frown make its way to Harry’s face.

“It won’t take long, promise.” Louis pleads, batting his eyelashes. “I haven’t seen you in days. Surely you can take a fifteen minute break, right?”

Harry sighs again but relents, and they head toward the lift side by side, a safe distance between them.

“There’s a coffee shop down the road that I like, is that okay with you?” Louis wonders.

“Why aren’t we going to the cafeteria?” Harry asks.

“Don’t want to go down there. There’s always so many people at this hour, it’ll take ages to get our drinks.”

Harry nods, clearly unconvinced. It’s not even rush hour, but Louis is not having this conversation in the magazine’s premises, with their coworkers running around and possibly eavesdropping.

They exit the HD building a minute later, and Louis keeps glancing at Harry with a frown. Harry is being distant, more than he ever has been with him, and Louis doesn’t like it one bit.

They place their orders and Harry leaves Louis behind to secure a booth, while Louis waits at the counter, watching the barista prepare Louis’ tea and Harry’s fancy iced tea. The smell of pastries and coffee is strong in the air, and the place is almost empty. Louis welcomes the somewhat intimacy it provides.

The barista finally shouts Louis’ name and he thanks her with a smile as he takes the tray with him. Harry is fiddling with his phone when Louis goes to sit down in front of him at the booth, a curl falling gently in front of his eyes and his lips pinched between his fingers.

“Here you go.” Louis says as he hands the plastic cup to Harry.

They stay silent for a while, Harry watching the pedestrians walk by through the glass wall of the coffee shop, and Louis staring at him in disbelief.

“So....” Louis finally drawls.

“So?”

“Care to tell me why I haven’t heard from you in almost a week?”

“I was busy.” Harry bites back, before taking a sip of his drink.

“Right.” Louis nods, unimpressed. “We’ve been practically attached at the hip since the Halloween party and now you don’t have time to even call?”

Harry finally glances up to look at Louis through his eyelashes. His eyes are cold, rid of the brightness they usually bear. Harry has never looked at Louis like that, like he means nothing. It hurts.

“That’s actually something I think we should talk about.”

“What about it?”

“We’re not together, right? We don’t owe each other anything. Like you said, we’ve been practically attached to the hip since that bloody party and it’s not normal, Louis. I mean, it was fun for a while but I think maybe it’s time to put an end to our deal.”

“What are you saying?” Louis asks. His hands are sweaty under the table, and his heart, god, his heart feels like it just took a knife right in the middle of it.

“I don’t want to wake up at 30, and realise that I spent my time sleeping around when I could have been looking for the real deal. I’m not like you, Lou, I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life alone.” Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Besides it’s not like this … ‘thing’ between us meant something, right? Putting an end to it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Louis’ stomach fills with lead at Harry’s words. This is everything he was afraid of. Harry has finally gotten tired of him, and he’s letting Louis go. This is the confirmation he dreaded, the reason he didn’t want to get feelings involved because he knew, _he knew_ that he was going to get his heart broken.

 

_We don’t owe each other anything._

_Looking for the real deal._

 

“Is that why you haven’t called? You actually don’t want to hang out anymore? Not even as friends?”

Louis’ pathetic attempt at salvaging whatever they have doesn’t elude Harry, and for a second, his face softens as he stares at Louis intently, his green eyes boring into Louis’ soul.

“I think that for the time being, we should give each other some space.” Harry states, his tone formal.

Louis wants to fight. He wants to tell Harry that he doesn’t want space, he wants him to fill all the blanks in his life because now he knows what it feels like to have Harry by his side, because Harry fits right in.

Louis knows what it feels like to wake up wrapped in his arms, and have breakfast together with Harry’s hand placed gently at the nape of his neck. He knows the smell of Harry’s hair right after a shower, the way his eyes brighten when he takes a good picture. Louis wants nothing more than being able to witness Harry taking the world by storm with his kindness and his talent. He wants everything.

But the words don’t come. They stay painfully stuck in Louis’ throat. His heart is shattering into a million pieces, and the tears threaten to spill against his will at any time now.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Louis eventually whispers.

“There’s nothing to say, I guess.” Harry replies nonchalantly. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Harry picks up his phone before standing up, Louis frozen on his seat as he watches Harry drink up the remnants of his cup.

“I’ll see you soon anyway. There’s always the Fleetwood Mac interview coming up.”

“Yeah…” Louis answers, his mind blank.

Harry sighs and he lifts his hand up, and Louis believes for a second he’s going to touch him but then Harry drops his hand and takes a step backward.

“See you later, Lou.”

And just like that, Louis is left alone at the booth, his lungs plummeting on themselves. He finishes his warm tea in one go and does the only thing he can. He dials Zayn’s number and hops into a cab, giving the driver directions to his best friend’s studio.

 

***

Louis is a mess when he arrives at Zayn’ studio. He couldn’t stop the tears from spilling once he got in the cab, and his face is puffy, his eyes red rimmed. Zayn blanches on the spot as he takes a good look at Louis through the glass wall of his studio. He opens the door, arms wide open, and Louis falls into them, the tears starting to spill again on his cheeks.

“What happened?” Zayn mumbles against his neck.

“We’re done.”

Zayn leads Louis to the sofa, his arms still secured around Louis before Louis lets himself fall on it with a thud. He brings his knees to his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs tight. Zayn automatically starts to roll a joint, and Louis watches him in silence, eyes blurry and hands shaking lightly. At least, the tears have stopped falling.

Once Zayn is done, he lights up the joint and hands it over after one puff, and Louis accepts it gratefully.

“Tell me what happened.”

Louis launches into the retelling of the day, but he starts first with his encounter with Gemma and the fight they had after Harry’s niece was born. He’s having a hard time spurting out the words, but eventually, he realises with a sad smile that a weight has been lifted off his chest, just by telling Zayn everything.

“This is absurd, Lou.” Zayn says with disbelief. “You do realise that this is absurd, right?”

“What do you mean?” Louis takes a deep puff before offering the joint back to Zayn.

“He’s upset. Clearly, he thought you guys were an item and you went and told him that you guys were not.” Zayn states like it’s obvious. “He’s hurt, and he doesn’t want to get hurt any further so he took it upon himself to end things before it’s too late.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Louis disagrees.

“Of course, it does!” Zayn exclaims. “You told me yourself that you don’t let him kiss you in public. Which, by the way, is so dumb I can’t even begin to understand how you came up with this. Plus, you never actually told him that you liked him.”

“And?”

“AND, you also told me that the only time you guys talked about relationships, you clearly said that it wasn’t for you. What did you expect?”

“He would have said something if he really wanted to be with me.”

“Like you told him? Oh wait, you didn’t.” Zayn raises his eyebrows at him, clearly annoyed. “You’re so thick sometimes, I swear.”

Louis kicks him in the calf for the comment, and usually Zayn would retaliate but today he lets it go.

“I think you should tell him.” Zayn encourages. He lights up the joint again, the flame weak at the tip of it.

“Yeah, right. ‘Hey, H, how are you? Unrelated but I think I’m in love with you, do you have something planned for the rest of your life?”

Zayn chokes on the joint, his eyes red and teary, and he grabs the glass of water on the counter to take a large gulp.

“You’re in love with him?” Zayn repeats, eyes wide like saucers.

“I... Yeah, I think I am.” Louis deflates. “It wouldn’t hurt so much if I wasn’t.”

“Boo… You have to tell him.” Zayn says as he scoots closer. “Take some time to calm down, and just… Go to his place, tell him.”

Louis doesn’t answer, he stays silent as he snatches the joint from Zayn’s hand and takes a drag to calm his nerves.

 

***

Louis goes to the Hoxton District everyday the following week, since he can’t stand being in his flat. It feels like the walls are closing in on him, and so he spends the bare minimum there. It may not the brightest idea, because he ends up crossing paths with Harry a couple of times that week and looking at him interacting with their co-workers, hearing his laugh through the walls is a punch in the gut every single time.

Louis hasn’t figured out if he wants to take Zayn’s advice and confront Harry again, but if he’s sure of one thing, it is that it’ll have to wait until Louis can look at him without breaking apart. So he waits for his heart to not feel this big in his chest before considering doing something.

One night, he’s writing a follow up article about James Bay - whose album is breaking records in the charts - when he gets a call from Niall. Louis hesitates at first, but eventually after the third ring, he takes the call. Louis can hear loud music in the background.

“Hey, Niall.”

“Louiiiiis! Hiya mate! How are you?” Niall shouts.

There’s the sound of a door closing and then the music becomes a dull sound from far away.

“I’m okay. You?”

“I’m great! More than great actually! I got news!”

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“The investors are on board, Lou! You’re talking to the proud owner of Horan’s Records!”

“Really?” Louis gasps. “Congratulations, Nialler! It’s amazing!”

“Thanks, Lou! You have no idea how happy I am right now!”

“I’d say you’re also very drunk.” Louis chuckles.

“That I am, my friend.” Niall laughs raucously. “Listen, I have a favour to ask.”

“Anything.” Louis nods although Niall can see him.

“I’m having a launching party next weekend, and I wondered if you could invite people so the word gets out? You’re invited obviously.”

“Of course! Do you have an invitation or a press release you can send me, something official so I can forward it to the right people?”

“Zayn is working on it as we speak, bless him.” Niall guffaws through the speakers. “I’ll send it to you as soon as possible.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” Louis says, happy for his friend.

“I hope you’ll show up, Lou. Despite… you know, recent events.”

Louis cringes, Niall’s words obviously hinting at the mess he and Harry are currently in.

“I’ll try to come, Ni, but I’m not promising anything.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Niall answers. “Can’t wait to see you!” Niall shouts then, the music in the background turning up suddenly.

“Me too! Bye Niall.”

Louis throws his phone aside and he closes the article he’s working on in favour of creating a draft with every single person he can think of that would help Niall succeed in his future business. The list of names is long, most of them music managers and radio hosts, but there are also a couple of teachers from the Music Institute and music journalists he knows from previous assignments. He adds Connor for good measure, and as he saves the draft for when Niall will send him the official invitation. Maybe this party will be his chance to approach Harry and talk.

 

***

The night of the label’s launching party, Louis is getting himself ready with his nerves going up the roof. He’s glad he cut his hair not so long ago, because his hands are jittery and there’s no way he would have managed a decent quiff in the state he is. Zayn is waiting for him in the living room, going through Louis’ collection of records, asking here and there if he can borrow a particular album.

Louis’ outfit for the night is simple yet effective. He opted for a navy blue suit with a white button shirt, and a pair of brown leather boots. He has shaved his scruff, put a bit of hair product to tame the rebel strands, and sprayed a whiff of Calvin Klein fragrance behind his ears. He’s ready to face the music.

Louis finds Zayn smoking in the kitchen, a bottle of orange lucozade in one hand. He smiles at Louis when he spots him, and whistles loudly as he takes him in.

“You look fantastic.” Zayn says impressed.

“Stop it, I’ll never look as good as you. It’s annoying by the way.”

Zayn shrugs but he’s smiling, like it’s not his fault his face is perfect at any angle, and that [his outfit](http://sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com/post/170184859491/keepingupwithzayn-zayn-out-in-new-york-city-on#notes) seems to be sewed on his body. Zayn is wearing black pants and a black leather blazer with a silk black shirt, a horse head painted on it in rainbow colours. He should look ridiculous, and yet…

 

Niall booked the Egg for the night, a famous night club that doesn’t usually host that type of event, but Niall and the owner go way back and he managed to bargain a good deal for the night.

The party is taking place on the rooftop of the venue, and when Louis and Zayn have finally climbed up the stairs leading to it, they find the place packed to the brim. It’s like everyone involved in the music business in London has answered Niall’s call. Waiters wearing all black are wandering all around the place with champagne flutes on trays. The latest Julia Michaels tune is blasting through the speakers, while people chat amicably amongst themselves.

Zayn snatches two glasses of champagne from a waiter passing by and he clinks his glass with Louis, a big smile on his face. Louis returns the smile and gulps down half of his drink to calm his nerves, his instincts telling him that Harry must be somewhere in the crowd, looking dashing as usual.

“Slow down, Lou.” Zayn laughs. “You’re not gonna be able to align three words if you’re too drunk.”

“Leave me alone, I’m nervous.” Louis says through gritted teeth.

Zayn chuckles as he looks around, but then his face turns serious as he redirects his attention to Louis.

“People incoming.” He mouths.

Louis looks up from his drink and sure enough, Niall and Harry are making their way toward them, both wearing dark suits and looking fantastic.

“Hey guys!” Niall shouts although they’re merely a foot away. “Welcome to the party.”

“Hey mate.” Louis says as he wraps Niall in a tight hug. “This party is a success, congratulations.”

“Lots of people are here because of you, Lou.” Niall grins. “I don’t even know how to say thank you.”

Louis brushes the comment with a wave of his hand, but he keeps his eyes on the fake grass ground.

“If you don’t mind, there are people I need to introduce to Zayn.” Niall adds as he takes Zayn by the arm. “We’ll see you guys later!”

 _So much for subtlety,_ Louis thinks.

Louis clasps his hands behind his back, his eyes still cast down, when Harry finally opens his mouth.

“I didn’t know if you were coming.” Harry says, his tone flat.

“Yeah, well, here I am.” Louis says with a weak smile as he peers up.

Harry nods but doesn’t say more, he brings his flute to his lips instead, looking at Louis intensely.

“You brought Zayn as your date, I see.”

Louis scoffs. “Zayn is my wingman. You can hardly consider him my date.”

“I brought a date.” Harry says, like it doesn’t send a thousand knives through Louis’ soul.

“You did? Who is he?”

“One of the photographers from work.” Harry says as he looks away, the picture of nonchalance. “Was hitting on me for a while now, thought I’d give him a chance.”

Louis gulps down the remnant of his drink in one go. He needs to leave, right now.

“It has nothing to do with you, though.” Harry rushes in. “I’m not trying to make you jealous or anything, I didn’t even know you’d be here. I’m just trying to-”

“Move on?” Louis supplies. He hates that his voice sounds so weak, even to his own ears.

“More like move forward.”

The alteration in Harry’s words may mean nothing to anyone else, but to Louis it’s a punch in the gut. It’s a painful reminder of what Harry said that day after their meeting with Connor.

 

_I’m not like you, Lou, I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life alone._

 

“Good for you, H.” Louis says with a fake smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and try to mingle.”

Louis doesn’t let Harry answer, he practically runs toward the other side of the rooftop, breaching the crowd as he goes. He unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, he feels like he can’t breathe right now. He can’t believe Harry brought a date. After everything that has happened between them, he’s already found someone else.

Louis goes to the bar and orders a rum and coke, the champagne not cutting it for him anymore, and he finds an isolated corner on the opposite side of the terrace, where chairs and tables are piled on one another, stacked against the wall. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be here but he doesn’t care. He needs to be alone for a minute, needs to gather his thoughts before he has to go back there and witness with his own eyes Harry standing side by side with another man. He’s leaning against the wall behind him, lighting up a cigarette when he hears someone approaching. And of course, it’s Harry with his perfect face, and perfect hair and beautiful suit and god, Louis hates him.

Harry seems to be upset, a frown etched on his face and his lips forming a thin line.

“Why do you look so sad?” He asks angrily as he stands in front of Louis.

“What?” Louis gasps.

“You look like you haven’t slept for days.”

“Well, cheers!” Louis says as he lifts his drink.

“You know what I mean, Lou.”

“Don’t call me that.” Louis groans. And, okay, the alcohol is already kicking in.

“Oh, so we’re back to that? Awesome.” Harry bites back, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not the one who decided that we couldn’t spend time together anymore.”

Harry closes his eyes and sighs deeply and as he shakes his head in disbelief, Louis doesn't know if he wants to punch him or beg him to take him back.

“Do you have the slightest idea as to why I chose to stop this?” Harry says, gesturing between them. “Do you?”

“Not really, to be honest. But does it matter now?”

Harry’s face sombers as that, and as his shoulders slump in defeat, Louis realises that maybe this is not how he should have answered. Harry stays silent, his gritted teeth making his jaw more prominent than usual, his pale skin glowing with the last remnant of sunshine hitting his face.

“I’m going back to the party.” Harry sighs. “See you later.”

Harry turns on his heels, and Louis feels like if he doesn’t do something now, he’ll never get the opportunity again. So he rubs his eyes with the palm of his eyes and takes a deep breath before standing straight.

“Wait, Harry!” He shouts.

Harry turns around, his arms crossed against his chest, one eyebrow raised at Louis expectantly.

“There is one more thing, but I’m not sure how to say it, actually.”

Louis gulps with difficulty, his whole body on fire with the confession he is about to make. Harry remains silent, waiting for Louis to organise his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, H. For everything.”

Louis rubs at his mouth forcefully, eyes cast to the side and his hands clammy.

“That night at your place, I freaked out. The idea of meeting your Mum, spending time with your sister, it was too much. Still is to be honest. But the past couple of weeks have been awful, and I missed you. So fucking much.”

Louis voice is breaking, he is falling apart in front of Harry, and he hates it. He takes a deep breath to ground himself, and carries on although he still can’t look at Harry.

“And I’m sorry it took me a while to admit it, but I do like you. Like more than a friend or a fucking sex friend. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself. I was so scared you didn’t feel the same that I convinced myself that we meant nothing to each other. It was easier that way.”

Louis shakes his head, chuckling sadly.

“Honestly, I feel so stupid right now because there’s no way in hell you’re feeling the same, I mean you brought a fucking date. But Zayn said that I should tell you so, there I said it. ”

Harry uncrosses his arms. “That’s it?” Harry asks, his face blank, unreadable. Louis is going to vomit.

“No, there’s more.” Louis clears his throat, waits for the words to come out on their own. It feels like he’s not entirely in control of his body.

“If I had to take a chance on someone, it would have been you. It should have been you. Because you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and I just… Let you slip through my fingers.”

Louis crashes the butt of his cigarette under his boot, he hasn’t even smoked it properly, but he couldn’t care less. The silence is deafening once Louis has finished his monologue, and when he chances a look at the man in front of him, Harry’s expression is indecipherable.

“You’re an idiot. A fucking idiot.”

Louis takes the blow in stride as he tries not to show how much the words hurt. He didn’t expect Harry to be soft with him after everything, but he certainly didn’t expect him to lash out and insult him. It takes every ounce of energy he has left to focus his gaze on Harry. Again, he doesn’t expect Harry to be smiling, a shy smile yes, but a smile nonetheless that clashes so hard with his previous statement.

“I’m crazy about you.” Harry blurts out. “Probably since the second you barged into your own office wearing that stupid baby blue shirt and a fucking suede jacket and I-”

Harry pauses then, eyes gleaming, a deep breath escaping his trembling lips.

“You looked so good and I just - I wanted you so bad and you resisted me, and to be honest no one has for years, not like you did. So yeah, at first it was about sex but then, I got to spend time with you and … You’re so wonderful Lou, more than you realise. And I thought that after all this time, you knew that it wasn’t just about the sex for me anymore. After that day at Richmond Park, I thought I didn’t have to spell it out for you.”

Louis’ heart breaks a little at the sight of him, at how open and honest Harry is being, when Louis spent most of his entire adult life hiding and running to avoid himself the heartbreak. This wonderful, wonderful man is standing right in front of him, pouring his heart out when Louis did nothing but hide behind false excuses, looking at him like no one has ever looked at him before.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you.” Louis says with a pained expression. “I want you, so much it’s a bit scary to be honest, but I really do.”

Louis takes a tentative step towards Harry, and opens his arms as an invitation, his smile shy and his hands slightly shaking. Harry sighs deeply as he surges forward and traps Louis in a suffocating hug, the pressure almost painful on Louis’ ribcage but his heart expanding exponentially, threatening to jump out of his chest. It feels like he can properly breathe after being too long underwater.

“I missed you so much, Lou.” Harry whispers against his neck, the sensation of Harry’ lips against his skin sending shivers down Louis’ spine.

“Me too, love. So much.”

Harry’s grip loosens on Louis, but he keeps him mere inches away from him. Harry’s eyes are glassy and bright, a dimple popping out on his right cheek, and Louis scrunches up his nose at him, happiness exploding in his belly at the sight. He never wants Harry to look at him the way he did for the past couple weeks.

“Can we go, please?” Harry asks with hopeful eyes.

“What about your date?” Louis teases. “You’re going to abandon him here?”

Harry rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “Stop it, you dick.” Harry places both of his hands at the nape of Louis’ neck. “I lied earlier. I definitely brought him to see if I could make you jealous. I knew you’d stop by, if only to show support for Niall.” he adds, with a guilty smile.

“I’m appalled, Styles.” Louis gasps in fake outrage. “You used that poor boy.”

“I did. I’m a terrible person.”

Louis chuckles, and as he presses their foreheads together, his heart speeds up.

“You’re not. You’re amazing.”

Harry is the one that finally connects their lips. He buries his hands in Louis’ hair as he takes control of the kiss and Louis is thrumming with love, his skin tingles with how much he missed it. Harry kisses him deeply, his tongue exploring Louis’ mouth languidly, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Louis moans softly. It’s so much more intense than when they used to kiss before, because now he can let himself go. He kisses Harry with purpose, knowing that this is not a kiss that is leading to sex. They kiss with intent, to show just how much they’re crazy about each other. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, and Louis needs to breathe for a second.

Louis withdraws a bit, and Harry whimpers as he chases Louis’ lips, like he’s already missing the contact and Louis chuckles before he dives back again. He takes Harry’s lower lip between his own and sucks lightly, before sliding their lips against his each other slowly but with pressure. There’s no tongue involved, no teeth clashing, it’s softer than a minute ago but Louis needs to show how much he missed him with a simple kiss. Harry welcomes the new rhythm, and he smiles against Louis’ lips. It amazes Louis how much they fit together, like two puzzle pieces.

When they finally part, they’re both smiling, cheeks pink and hands never leaving the other’s body. Louis buries his face in Harry’ neck, the familiar smell both overwhelming and comforting.

“How about I go and find my date, tell him I’m going, and you wait for me downstairs?” Harry whispers.

“What about Zayn and Niall?” Louis asks softly.

“I’ll text Niall. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Okay.” Louis nods.

They go back to the party and Harry scans the crowd for his date. Once he’s spotted him, he presses a kiss on Louis’ wrist and lets go of his hand with a smile.

 

Louis has just managed to hail a taxi when Harry appears by his side. They hop into the car and Louis gives his address to the driver. Harry leans against Louis’ shoulders, their fingers intertwined on Louis’ thigh, and the drive is spent in silence, anticipation bubbling in the pit of Louis’ stomach.

Soon enough, the taxi pulls over in front of Louis’ building and Harry hands over a tenner to the driver before they get out of the car. They quickly make their way into the building and up to Louis’ flat, with Harry’s hands pressed against Louis’ shoulder blades.

Louis shrugs his blazer off once they’re inside, and Harry does the same. He looks nervous, Louis can tell. He keeps touching his rings, putting them on a different finger and replacing them right after.

“Do you want something to drink?” Louis asks as he makes his way into the kitchen. “I got beer, a bottle of white wine, and vodka.”

“Can I have some tea instead?” Harry demands. “I don’t feel like drinking alcohol.”

“Of course.”

Louis puts the kettle on and pulls out two bags out of his box, one of green tea and the other of Yorkshire for himself. He grabs two mugs from his cupboard and waits for the water to boil, his mind unsuccessfully trying to guess why Harry is feeling nervous.

Harry is going through Louis’ records when Louis comes back in the living room. He smiles softly at Louis and accepts the mugs he hands over, before they settle on the sofa. Louis blows on the surface of his tea to cool it down, his eyes set on Harry intensely, waiting for him to speak up. There’s obviously something bothering him.

“What’s on your mind?” Louis asks when the silence becomes unbearable to handle.

Harry bites his lower lip, and puts the mug on the counter table before crossing his arms defensively against his chest.

“You said earlier that I freaked you out with the whole dinner party with my family, and I get it. I do.” Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But I need to know that you’re absolutely sure that you want to do this.”

Louis frowns. After their conversation at Niall’s party, he thought he had made his intentions clear.

“I am. I told you.”

“I know, but it’s just… Eventually, I want you to meet them. They’re so important to me, and I… I guess I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realise that this is not what you wanted.”

Louis places his mug on the counter table, and scoots closer on the sofa so his thigh is brushing against Harry’s. He takes his hand into his own, and squeezes it.

“Look, H, I can’t predict the future. I don’t know what I’ll want six months from now, but nobody does, not even you.”

Harry looks down at their joined hands, his teeth nagging at his lips and Louis brings his free hand to his mouth to release it.

“I know I told you before that I didn’t do relationships, but I'm willing to try. I’m in love with you.” Louis chuckles nervously. “I’d be an idiot to change my mind just because I have commitment issues.” 

Harry peers up at that, mouth open and eyes wide. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes.” Louis says, a blush creeping up on his face, but his voice is firm, his words sincere. He can feel his cheeks burning hot without even touching them. “Very much so.”

Harry throws himself at Louis, the movement eliciting a loud laugh from Louis as he leans against the sofa, Harry’s body covering his own. Harry peppers kisses all over his face, his hands clutching Louis’ hips to keep him from escaping.

“I love you too, Lou.”

“Thank god!”

Harry lets go of his hips to tickle him everywhere and Louis is wiggling under him, he can barely breathe with how much he’s laughing.

“Stop it, H!” Louis pleads, laughing.

Harry finally relents, and Louis thinks that he’s in the clear until Harry hauls him over his lap before standing up, carrying Louis like he weighs nothing. Louis gasps when Harry bites at his neck, his hands under his bum as he makes his way to Louis’ bedroom. Harry kicks the door open and they fall on the bed together, their laughter subsiding as Harry starts unbuttoning Louis’ shirt.

Harry presses his palms against Louis’ chest, feeling the muscles and caressing his skin reverently. Louis shivers under him, eyes set on Harry as he places his hands on Harry’s hips. Harry pinches Louis’ nipple, making him gasp, a devilish smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck I missed this.” Harry mutters under his breath.

Louis grabs his shoulders forcefully and pulls Harry down so he can catch his lips in a bruising kiss. He unbuttons Harry’s shirt quickly, one of the buttons popping out and falling beside them on the bed. After that, they frantically get rid of their clothes, too impatient and eager and Louis rolls them over so he’s on top, both of them breathing harshly as their hands roam over each other’s body.

“Can I fuck you?” Louis asks before sucking a bruise on Harry’s neck.

“Please.” Harry whines. 

Louis rocks his hips up against Harry in a relentless place, and they’re both rock hard within two minutes, Harry’s hands gripping Louis’ arms hard. Louis pauses for a second so he can retrieve the lube and a condom from Harry’s drawer and he sets on prepping Harry, one finger at a time until Harry is whimpering under him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes misty.

Louis rolls the condom on his cock and when he pushes inside Harry for the first time in weeks, his body gives a full shudder. He takes it slow first, wanting to give him the time to adjust to the pressure, but soon enough he sets a ruthless pace, hips meeting harshly against each other. Harry is making the most obscene noises, the sound echoing in the room and Louis is sweating like mad above him, a smug smile on his face.

“Fuck, Lou! Keep going!” Harry slurs.

“You like that?”

“Yes! Yes!” Harry chants. “ Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too. Wanna do this forever.”

Harry clasps his ankles behind Louis’ back, his nails digging into Louis’ shoulders. Louis knows he’s close, so he wraps a hand around Harry’s cock, his hand speeding up at the same pace as his hips.

“Give me the lube.” Harry demands.

Louis complies and he watches Harry intensely as he pours a generous amount on his fingers. Louis is so not prepared when Harry slides his fingers between Louis’ cheeks and presses two fingers against his rim. Harry starts fingering him, the position not ideal but the feeling is amazing, and Louis moans out loud, a raucous cry escaping his lips as he thrusts forcefully inside Harry.

Harry pumps his fingers in and out until Louis comes inside him, his breathing erratic and his thighs hurting. His orgasm rolls over him with sheer force, and he falls on Harry, exhausted and sated.

It takes a minute for Louis to realise that Harry is still hard, his cock pressing on his stomach and so he pulls out, gets rid of the condom and crawls down Harry’s body to take his cock in his mouth. Louis uses the last remnant of his energy to suck him down, and Harry comes shouting Louis’ name, his whole body tensing up.

Louis lets go of his cock with a pop, and he crawls back up so he can kiss Harry, letting him taste himself on Louis’ tongue. The kiss is messy but they don’t care.

“That was amazing.” Harry says with a short breath.

“Yeah.” Louis chuckles.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis, and Louis draws heart shaped figures on Harry’s arm absentmindedly, a stupid grin on his face. He feels so lucky to be where he is right now.

“I know people say silly things during sex.” Harry says lowly. “ But I meant it. I love you. More than anything.”

“Me too, H. Never going to let you go.” Louis pauses then, his heart beating fast with how overwhelmed he is, but he wants to say the words that have been crossing his mind more than often during the last weeks.

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember when I told you I didn’t believe in soulmates? We were having lunch with Niall after the interview with Halsey.”

“I remember.” Harry chuckles.

“I think I was wrong. I think you’re mine.”

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

Louis is waiting outside Harry’s building, smoking a cigarette while he waits for Niall to show up. He’s looking up and  down the streets nervously, fearing that Harry will appear out of nowhere although he knows that it’s impossible. Harry is in Ireland with Ed Sheeran for a gig, and he’s not meant to come back until tomorrow, but Louis is being paranoid nonetheless.

They have been together for three months now, and Louis still can’t believe how lucky he is to have Harry. Nothing has really changed though; they’re still attached at the hip, which is annoying according to Niall and Zayn, but Louis knows that deep down they’re really happy they finally have their shit together. Sometimes, Louis can’t believe how easy it is to be in a committed relationship, and that’s all thanks to Harry for being the perfect boyfriend.

Louis is not though, and he learned something quite surprising about himself during the past three months. Louis is crazy jealous. He never deemed himself the type, but now he has to admit that when he sees a guy trying to flirt with his man, he sees red, alarms blasting in his mind. Harry is gorgeous, and Louis can totally understand why so many men try to take him home.

On these instances, Louis can’t help but go and plaster himself against Harry, practically growling at whoever is trying to seduce his boyfriend. Obviously, Harry likes it, because every time it happens they go back to his place or Louis’, and they fuck until they can’t feel their legs, Louis possessively whispering in his ears “Mine. You’re mine”.

 

Two months ago, they celebrated Harry’s birthday with their friends with a huge party and lots of alcohol, and Louis surprised himself once again. Harry has categorically refused for Louis to give him a pricey gift, so Louis had to find something original without spending hundreds of pounds.

Louis went for a special gift card, allowing Harry to ask for a sex favour of any kind, which led to a steamy session in the dark room despite Louis’ reluctance to have sex at work before. The other gift was a proposition to get tattoos together. Louis wasn’t expecting for Harry to be so enthusiastic about it, but he let Harry drag him to a tattoo parlour the next day. Louis got a H inked right in the middle of the compass on his right arm, and Harry got an L next to the big dark heart he already had on his left arm.

That night, they went back to Harry’s place, skin red and cling film wrapped around the tattoos, but giddy smiles on their faces. They ordered food and watched a movie as they cuddled on the yellow sofa, sipping on red wine and laughing drunkenly.

“I love my gifts.” Harry said as he carefully touched his new tattoo.

“I’m glad, babe.” Louis answered as he squeezed Harry’s arm.

They kept their eyes on the TV, Louis completely absorbed until Harry spoke up.

“I have a confession to make.” Harry blurted out then.

Louis peered up at him, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his boyfriend.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember back in December, when I told you I was lame at giving gifts?” Harry added.

“Yeah ?”

“I lied. Those gifts I gave you? It wasn’t what I actually planned.”

“Okay?” Louis says, eyes squinting in surprise.

Harry smiled softly and disentangled their limbs so he could stand up to grab the guitar on its stand in the corner of the room, before sitting back again. Louis looked at him quizzically, not knowing where Harry was going with this.

“I wrote you a song.”

“You did?” Louis asks, eyes wide.

“Yes. But afterwards, I thought it was too much so I gave up on it. Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course.”

Harry started playing, the melody soft and a bit melancholic, but Louis loved it so much, tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. Harry’s voice is beautiful and soothing, and Louis listened intently, the lyrics hitting him right in the heart.

Harry ended the song and smiled, and Louis snatched the guitar from his hands, placed it carefully on the floor and kissed him fervently, a perpetual smile etched on his face has he pressed their lips together, Harry's muffled laughter warming Louis' heart.

“Fuck, I can't believe you wrote me a song. I love it.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, beaming. 

“Hum hum.” Louis rubbed his nose against Harry's cheek. "Don't know how I'm supposed to compete with that.” 

 

And so, two months later, Louis feels like it’s his turn to make a grand gesture. He’s nervously waiting for Harry to arrive, two glasses set on the counter table in the living room and a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Louis wants everything to be perfect, and deep down he knows Harry is going to say yes, but he can’t stop the tremor in his hands.

The buzzer eventually goes off, and Louis hurries to let Harry up, waiting at the door to welcome him. Harry looks tired but his face lights up when he spots Louis waiting for him. Harry drops his bag in the doorway to wrap Louis in a tight hug, and even though Louis saw him four days ago, it feels like an eternity has passed since he had the opportunity to hold his boyfriend in his arms.

Louis purposely leads Harry to the kitchen, keeping his attention on him so Harry doesn’t take a glimpse at the living room.

“How was your trip, love?” Louis asks.

“It was amazing.” Harry answers with a content sigh. “It was really good to see Ed. Told me to say hi by the way.”

Louis grins, and as he crouches down to retrieve the bottle of champagne from the fridge, he can feel Harry’s eyes on him.

“What’s the occasion?” Harry asks, intrigued.

Louis shrugs but doesn’t respond, takes Harry’s hand into his own and leads him to the living room. Harry gasps when he realises that his yellow, ugly sofa is in the middle of Louis’ living room, right where Louis’ used to be.

“Lou…. why is Bernard here?” Harry asks with a surprised frown.

“I realised something while you were gone.” Louis says as he opens the bottle of champagne, the lid going off with a pop.

“This place is great. I love it. My Mum chose it for me, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else to be honest. But, it actually feels like home when you’re here with me.”

Louis chuckles nervously as he pours a generous amount of champagne into the glasses, and hands one to Harry.

“I love you, H. And I want you to move in with me. And as much as I think that this couch is obnoxious, you love it so I love it too. I thought maybe that was the kind of grand gesture you’d like.”

Harry remains speechless for a moment, but eventually he takes a large gulp of his drink, before putting it down on the counter table and kissing Louis thoroughly. Louis’ champagne is threatening to spill everywhere, but he doesn’t care because he’s pretty sure Harry is saying yes. They break the kiss and Harry’s eyes are gleaming, his cheeks pink and his hands buried in Louis’ hair.

“Of course I’ll move in with you.” He rasps. “I love you so much.”

“Good, because I need all the love and attention you can provide.” Louis laughs, his hand caressing Harry’s cheek in adoration. 

“I will, I promise. Always.”

Harry huffs in disbelief, but he smiles widely, as if he can’t believe what’s happening.

“For someone who claimed being romantic is shit, you are pretty good at it, Lou.”

“I had some help, to be honest.”

“Niall?”

“Yeah... He said he’d help in exchange for my couch, and fortunately, he’s got a spare key to your flat. Told him he could keep the sofa if you said yes.”

Harry laughs whole-heartedly.

“Fuck." Harry whispers. "I don’t want to scare you or anything but I’m going to marry the fuck out of you one day.”

“Yeah?” Louis wonders, eyes crinkling.

“Yup.” Harry answers as he tightens his grip on Louis.

“You know what? That’s fine by me.” Louis says before diving for a kiss.

 

_Sweet creature_

_Had another talk about where it's going wrong_

_But we're still young_

_We don't know where we're going_

_But we know where we belong_

_And oh we started_

_Two hearts in one home_

_It's hard when we argue_

_We're both stubborn_

_I know, but oh_

_Sweet creature, sweet creature_

_Wherever I go, you bring me home_

_Sweet creature, sweet creature_

_When I run out of road, you bring me home_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here : sweetstrawberryheadache.tumblr.com if you wanna scream at me, or cry with me, but always in a cool way


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